Remember me
by Esmerald tears
Summary: An illicit relationship and an undeserved death. Now three years after Sirius fell into the Veil, Hermione wonders if death could be turned backwards... But at what price? Surely not the one everyone expected. HGSB R
1. Harry remembers

**Remember me**

A/N: Well, it's been quite a while! Nearly two years now since I stopped writing fanfiction... And now I'm back with a ship I've grown to love with a passion: Sirius and Hermione. I just don't know why. Maybe because I love Sirius (and Gary Oldman... is it wrong if I think he's disturbingly hot?). This is my first Hr/SB fic, so please don't be too harsh on me. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: One solid proof that I don't own Harry Potter and co.: Sirius wouldn't be dead. And, you should want more; I could also say that Dumbledore wouldn't be dead, either. Besides, who'd want to own them, when you can be a happily and militantly delusional?

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"Guys, come over here," Ginny requested in a low voice, her head showing through a gap in the kitchen door. Harry and Ron glanced at each other over the chess board and stood up at the same time, going over to the sunlit kitchen. Number 12, Grimmauld Place, had been Harry's for over two years now, but only when he vanquished Voldemort –nearly a month ago- had he moved in, along with Hermione. Her parents had been murdered during the war, so he had offered his house and she had accepted.

What used to be a depressing household soon became a place for endlessly long celebrations and reunions. With the help of Hermione they both cleaned up the house, every last bit, and everything evidencing the dark past of the Blacks was thrown out and broken to pieces; and, when it came to Harry, burned. Not to mention that Kreacher's head was already hanging from the walls, along with its relatives (Hermione had forbidden Harry to perform _very_ gruesome hexes on the elf, even though she hated it).

Oh well. One couldn't get everything they wanted.

"What's up?" Ron asked, taking a sip from a freshly opened butterbeer. Ginny sighed and Harry knew what was to come- he wondered if he should say what was on his mind. Lately (lately? Had it not been like this for a while now?), Hermione had been acting very strangely. She rarely spoke or laughed. And she had given up on her reading, which was a sure sign that things weren't doing so well. Also, she had quit her dream job in Flourish and Blotts, explaining that working in the library shop wasn't what she really wanted.

But that wasn't everything...

_-Flashback-_

_It was either very late at night or very early in the morning when Harry was awoken by a loud sound, like someone slamming against a door or a wall. Immediately awake, he seized his wand and silently went out of his room into the dark hallway. "Lumos!" He whispered, and with much surprise and suspicion, discovered that _someone _had opened the last door of the hallway._

_Sirius's bedroom door._

_Harry swallowed at this. That door had not been opened since its owner had died... He walked towards the door and, for some reason, a knot formed in his throat. His godfather had slept in there... He wondered what he would be finding inside that room. Taking a deep breath he stood under the doorframe and lifted his wand to throw some light into the place._

"_Hermione!" _

_His best friend was lying on his godfather's bed, seemingly asleep, clinging to the unused pillows for dear life. With widened eyes, Harry found himself speechless. His gasp, however, seemed to bring Hermione out of her funk. She mumbled something quite impossible to decipher._

"_Hermione?" Harry managed to whisper, softly touching her shoulder._

"_Haaaarryyyy..." She slurred, smiling widely. Something about that smile made Harry shiver. "I _zidn't _want to wake you up," she added, still smiling, not changing her foetal position, hugging the pillow that had been Sirius's. Was she drunk?_

"_C'mon, sweet. I'll take you to your room," Harry suggested. He really didn't want to be inside that room any longer. _

"_You... _zound_ like him!" Hermione replied, making him raise his eyebrows._

"_Like who?" Hermione started giggling madly at his question, burying her face in the pillow. Harry now raised one eyebrow at her bizarre outburst, but didn't say anything._

"_Him!" She suddenly announced, pointing at the bedside table. Harry followed her index finger and illuminated the small bedside table. He gasped once more when he saw a dust covered picture resting against the wall. He walked over to it and shakily picked it up, blowing the dust off it. A fifteen year old Harry waved happily, for Sirius had his arm around his godson's shoulders. Suddenly the real Harry saw a detached arm in the picture, and Sirius seemed to notice it too: his grin grew and he pulled on the arm, making Hermione step into the picture, looking embarrassed. Sirius put his other arm around her shoulders too and Hermione grinned at this; finally waving too. _

_The real Harry swallowed the lump in his throat at this and slowly returned the picture to its rightful place; and as his wand moved, something glimmered. Harry frowned and lowered the tip of his wand..._

_A familiar two way mirror glowed eerily inside the room. _

_Okay, that was it. Enough. "C'mon, Hermione. Let's go to your room," Harry commanded, his voice a little bit higher that he had intended. Hermione had her eyes closed._

"_No."_

"_Please, Hermione. Let's go." Harry hated the way his voice had made it sound like he was pleading. But wasn't he? Hermione turned over to look at him._

"_Can I take _ze_ pillow?" She asked in a soft voice. Harry quickly shook his head no._

"_You'll get it tomorrow, okay? Now let's go." He retorted, offering her his hand. Hermione glanced at it and reluctantly took it._

"_M'kay." _

_It felt like a breath of life, to Harry, to get out of that room. He was never going in there again. The walk to Hermione's room was pretty calm (maybe because she only heaved dangerously and didn't talk), and when they entered her room, she practically threw herself on her bed, rolled to her side, and stopped moving. Harry frowned and took a look at her bedside table, where a small plastic bottle rested. Checking to see if Hermione was still on her side, he picked it up to get a better look. There was a prescription note attached to it._

_Rivotril_

"_Drink only one per night"_

_Harry's frown intensified. Rivotril? Why was she taking that kind of stuff? "Hermione, how many of these did you take?" He questioned his friend, who didn't answer anymore. _

_-End flashback-_

The next morning, as he had breakfast, Harry supposed that the medicine had been the cause of her "drunkenness". When he asked her about it, she couldn't remember much. She had told him that she had had a nightmare and had wanted to go over Harry's room, but had gotten the wrong bedroom. She even seemed surprised about it; but her eyes had told him something else.

It was Ginny's voice that broke his reverie this time. "Harry! Hello?" He blinked a couple of times and cleared his throat.

"Sorry, just spaced out. What were you saying?" Ginny sighed once more.

"I'm worried about Hermione," she started. "She's not the same anymore. It's as if... As if she's been kissed by the Dementors or something," Ginny added with a shudder. Harry nodded thoughtfully.

"Yeah..." he only trailed off, not sure if Hermione would like it if he retold what had transpired three nights ago.

"Has she said anything, Harry? Done anything?" Ginny was obviously upset, so Harry decided to tell them something.

"Well, no, she hasn't talked much. But she's taking Rivotril," he confessed.

"Rivotril?" Ron suddenly asked with a frown. "Why would she be taking that? She hasn't had an overdose or something, right?" He asked.

"Ron, for Merlin's beard, don't you think I'd have already told you if that was the case?" Harry told him reproachfully. "I've asked her about it, and she says she's only taking one per night." He added. Ron shook his head.

"Mental muggles, I tell you. Keep an eye on her with that- that thing," he said. Harry nodded.

"Of course."

"Where is she now?" Ginny wanted to know. Harry scrunched his nose at this, scratching his head.

"Either she's locked up in her bedroom, or lying on the living room couch." Yes, Hermione spent hours of her days just lying there, staring at the ceiling with glassy eyes. Harry had tried to talk to her, but it felt as if he was back in his second year when she was petrified.

"But she looked so happy when you defeated You- Know-Who," Ginny stated. "I don't know what happened to her."

"First of all, it's _Voldemort_," Harry corrected. "I didn't risk half of my friend's lives for you to still be afraid of his name. And second... You're right. Maybe she just can't get over everything yet," he said. Ron snorted.

"Who can blame her? She just needs time. C'mon, let's look for her and see if we can cheer her up. Let's badmouth S.P.E.W.," Ron suggested. Ginny cracked a smile and Harry laughed at the comment, quickly standing up.

"Let's do that."

Hermione, meanwhile, barely heard them talking as they neared the living room. Little did they know that nothing could save her now.

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A/N: Well, there it is: the first chapter. Let me first remark that this is NOT a Hr/H story, nor will it contain any other ship but Hr/SB. That said... I hope you enjoyed it! Please R&R!


	2. What's wrong, Hermione?

What's wrong, Hermione?

A/N: Well! Five reviews in two days... That's more than I expected! I'm so happy you like this story, really... I hope it continues to be like that. Here's the second chapter!

Disclaimer: Not mine. Unfortunately.

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Was it night or day? Early or late? Where there other people around in the house? It didn't matter, really. After all, it was all the same. An hour had the same length as seconds; or was it the other way around? Yes, time has lost its meaning... As had night, day, sun and moon... And life. It just felt like whole ages stringing together to form an endlessly long... nothing... that stretched on and on, and never ended.

No... It never ended, did it?

There was only exhaustion, a mind numbing exhaustion, and pain. A sharp pain that didn't fade. In fact, it only grew stronger instead of faltering. Did she look tired, and haggard, and ill? Did she look as she felt? Hermione softly smirked at herself. This morning she had examined her face on the mirror, and it was not pretty: wide, purplish rings under her eyes; and over the rings, bags that were big enough to could wrap Crookshanks in; and that passiveness her eyes expressed.

No matter how much time she had rehearsed in front of the mirror, she just wasn't able to smile convincingly anymore, as if the muscles in her face had forgotten how to. "_What's wrong with you, Hermione?"_ She asked herself, sighing. Honestly? She didn't know how she had reached the state she was in now. Was it because of the War? Not a likely chance. Though she had suffered a great deal and had sustained injuries, Harry had _won_. How could she not be happy? It was all over now. Her brow furrowed sadly at that thought. It was _over_. She had left Hogwarts nearly a year ago; she still didn't have a proper job, and there was nothing else she could do to make herself feel useful.

And... And... There was- well... Hermione closed her eyes tightly at this. _"Not again."_ But she couldn't stop the flow of memories and feelings. Actually, she was wondering if there was a Dementor cooped up somewhere in Grimmauld Place. There had to be. Was there any other logical explanation? When she first moved in with Harry, she had truly been very happy. But a week later, the house just seemed to drain her from every happy thought and memory. Ghosts apparently haunted her whenever she walked into a room or walked down the hallways... The walls and the windows seemed so absorb her energy and wit... Nightmares of Veils and inscrutable darkness.

Hermione didn't feel the need to sleep, or talk, or do anything for that matter. Not exactly because she didn't want to, but because she couldn't muster the strength to perform any activity other that lying on that couch, burning holes in the ceiling with her eyes. She was tired to the point of being almost always on the verge of tears, feeling frustrated, useless. It was funny how she could barely keep her eyes open during the day, but when her head hit a pillow, sleep would escape from her grip. No... No matter how tired she was, she wasn't able to sleep her grief away.

That's why she took that medicine her muggle doctor had recommended. What was the name...? Ah, yes. Rivotril. It helped, sometimes. Not always. Hermione felt as if she was blind, walking through a dark tunnel, with her arms stretched, but unable to touch anything.

She didn't belong to the world of the living, but she also didn't belong to the world of the dead. Where was she then? Nowhere... She had no place to go. Her friends could no longer bring her solace, or provide her with a friendly hand in these desperate times. She was lost. Lost among the greyness of the world.

_You're lost without him._

It had all started with that stupid crush she had entertained for him when they first met. No. When they first "talked": Hermione could almost hear her small, frightened voice- _"Mr. Black... Sirius?"_ The way he had looked at her, so shocked and, very slightly, pleased... That was the beginning of the end. During her fourth year, Hermione felt the same way every time someone even said his name- A quick jolt in her stomach, followed by a slight blushing- not to mention the few times she managed to see him.

But Hermione only thought of it a stupid crush; puppy love. It wasn't as if she constantly needed to know about how he was doing, and where he was, and if he was safe; and when she saw Sirius, why did she have the strange urge to pamper him until all the pain he had gone through and was going through, was gone?

It still remained a stupid crush. Right? Yes. An infatuation. Nothing more, nothing less.

Hermione chuckled at herself at this. Then, during fifth year, it all changed. It was like the tide slowly going up and down again, up and down, yes; those were her feelings for Sirius. They had fought so many times with him over Harry; and Hermione had had so many rows with Harry about Sirius- she would forever be shameful of that, especially after... Well... After what had happened. Not only his death, but... but... the- the _other_ thing.

She sure knew when and why it ended, but she was nearly clueless when it came to why and when did it begin. Her dry lips parted as she sighed, recalling that cold Christmas morning.

Her parents had just dropped her off and Hermione just couldn't wait to see Harry and Ron- she had found out about what had happened to Ron's father, and she was sick with worry! Where they alright? Was father's Ron okay? And how was Harry handling everything? Hermione knew that he wasn't being easy on himself- How, she didn't know. She just... knew.

Hermione had climbed the worn steps and anxiously knocked on the door, starting to shiver because of the snow. And what about... Him? Would he be there too? Hermione had shaken her head, trying to push that question to the back of her mind, and harshly knocked again. She heard muffled exclamations from inside and she grinned, expecting to see Harry or any member of the Weasley's family, even Tonks, smiling at her in the doorway when the door opened. However, when the abovementioned door _did_ open, and someone stood smiling widely at her, her voice got stuck in her throat, her cheeks turned to a bright shade of crimson, and butterflies started tap dancing inside her stomach.

An ex convict; an old Marauder; a womanizer (in his good old days); someone old enough to be her father; a member of the Order; her best friend's _godfather..._

And Hermione Granger had fallen in love with him.

A/N: Short chapter, I know. I hope you liked it! Oh, and one more thing: this story's been hit like 79 times, and I only have 5 reviews... Please take one minute of your time to leave one! (If you liked it, of course. If you didn't, then it's okay)


	3. She Remembers

She Remembers

A/N: Here it is... The next chapter! There's not much left to say. We take off the moment Hermione realizes she is in love with our Sirius.

Disclaimer: Not yet. D

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Oh goodness. This was wrong, plain wrong. It had been only a crush, dammit! When did it become something more?

"Close your mouth, love, or I might have to stick something in it," Sirius suddenly said softly, smiling. Hermione gasped and immediately closed her mouth; trying to stop _certain_ mental images to overrule the rational part of her seemingly addled brain.

"Sirius Black!" Hermione exclaimed in outraged tones, blushing profusely. What had _that_ been all about?! Had that comment meant something? No, no. It couldn't have- maybe it was in his nature to be so crude. But then again, why should it have a... erm... suggestive second meaning? Her mind was in the gutter; that was where the problem was. Sirius could have meant a finger, a snowball, a scarf; not necessarily a- a tongue or- or... well, what she meant was that it could have been a wand, or even a carrot-

MIND OUT OF THE GUTTER!

Her racing mind's blabbering stopped when Hermione felt Sirius's hand on her shoulder. "Are you alright? You look worried," he said. Hermione swallowed and cleared her throat, aware that his hand hadn't moved from her shoulder.

"R- Ron's dad. Harry," she managed to answer. What was wrong with her?? Since when did she act like a fumbling, stuttering... girl?! Sirius grinned.

"They'll be happy to see you. Harry may need a swift kick in the butt, though," he replied. Hermione raised her eyebrows; seeing Sirius Black saying something like that about his godson wasn't something you heard everyday.

"How come?"

"Well, lately he's been locking himself up with Buckbeak for hours; he's been doing that for a couple of days now... Probably pitying himself," Sirius explained with a lopsided grin. Trying not to pay attention to the flip flop her stomach did, Hermione frowned slightly and put her hands over her hips.

"Like you're the one to talk!" She stated. Sirius's eyebrows shot up again and looked at her strangely, brushing off a strand of black hair from his face, as if he didn't know what she was talking about. Hermione's frown intensified. "End of summer?" She suggested, trying not to smile. Sirius stared at her for a couple of seconds and finally let out his laughter like a bark.

"I know, I know. It's just that you reminded me of Molly," Sirius said. "That's why I'm telling you, actually. You're probably the only one who can snap him out of it," he added. Hermione beamed at him.

"Thanks," she didn't exactly know if it was a compliment or not; she just felt that she had to thank him. Sirius smiled at her again and nonchalantly leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms.

"So, what are you going to do about my godson?" He asked. Hermione shrugged.

"I don't know yet. The usual things, I think. And if they work, maybe I'll use them on you too, when the time comes," she answered. Sirius feigned surprise.

"And what would those 'things' you speak of be, if you mind?"

"Why don't you tell me?" Hermione questioned with a half smile. Was she _mental_? What was she doing?! This time, Sirius _was_ shocked. Even his mouth had fallen slightly open. "Tut-tut, Mr. Black! Close you mouth or _I_ might stick something in it," she added before she could stop herself. Sirius stared at her without saying anything, and Hermione did the same. Oh, how lovely he looked as the snowflakes landed on his hair; how sexy he appeared just leaning against the doorframe-

"Sirius!" Molly's voice suddenly broke the silence that had fallen between them, making them both jump as if struck by lightening. Molly appeared next to Sirius, shivering with the cold that snuck inside the house. "Why are you keeping Hermione out there? She must be freezing to death!" But Sirius still looked kind of dazed as he gazed over to Molly. Hermione wasn't cold- all the contrary. For some reason, she felt... how you can say it... _powerful_.

"Don't worry, Molly, I'm perfectly fine," she said with a smile, stepping inside the house without looking at Sirius, who slowly closed the door after her. "Where's Harry?" She asked, turning over to look at Sirius, whose face suddenly sported a scowl.

"In my mother's room." He simply answered, signalling to the stairs. Hermione smiled at him and quickly ran up the stairs; embarrassment quickly catching up with her. Had she just flirted with Sirius? No, right? She didn't even know how to flirt! And- and when they had stared at each other- why hadn't he said anything? Why not discourage her? And what about the scowl when she asked about Harry?

_Merlin's beard, why was she even CONSIDERING this?! _

However interesting and frightening those questions were, they instantly left her mind when she found herself in front of Sirius's mother's bedroom door and began knocking, screaming at Harry to open up.

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She felt so guilty when she talked to Harry. It just seemed wrong to be in love with his godfather and still talk to Harry. It wasn't right. _Heck,_ a small voice inside her head said, _why not?_ Hermione sighed deeply at this, biting her lower lip. The man was nearly forty years old. He was, well, her best friend's godfather! Not an irrelevant detail she could forget about! _As long as Harry doesn't find out, it can't hurt him, right?_

Well... There was no need to let anyone know about how she felt, that was true. She would hide it and everything was going to be okay. But how would she manage to spend so much time near Sirius and stop anything from coming out? Hermione looked up at Sirius laughing over something Lupin had said and her brow furrowed, wishing she could make him laugh like that- wishing she could make him happy-, wishing she could be with him...

"Hermione," someone shook her shoulder and she blinked a couple of times; Ginny was looking at her weirdly.

"What?" Hermione asked her, trying not to glance at Sirius.

"Is everything okay? You seem so out of it," Ginny retorted. Hermione bit her lower lip again, wondering if she should tell her friend all about it; but decided against it. She wouldn't understand.

"Yeah, yeah, I was just- Thinking," at least that was true. Ginny raised an eyebrow.

"You were staring at Sirius," she told her in a low voice. Hermione felt the heat creeping up on her cheeks.

"W- Was I? I didn't- I hadn't noticed," she lied, trying to keep her voice even. Ginny raised her chin suspiciously.

"Is there something you're not telling me, Hermione?"

_Definitely._ "No," Hermione replied. Ginny narrowed her eyes at her and didn't say anything for a couple of seconds. Hermione hoped that her friend wouldn't continue to press her; Hermione always ended up telling her everything. And this was something no one could know about.

"Okay, if you say so..." Ginny trailed off. Hermione let out a breath of relief and nibbled on her mashed potatoes, sighing again when she saw Harry talking animatedly to Sirius. When Sirius laughed, once again, something erupted inside Hermione's chest; she suddenly had the strangest (but most powerful) urge to tell Harry to sod off and lock himself up again-

Wait a second. Was she _jealous_ of _Harry_? _Harry,_ of_ all _people?

What the bloody hell?

Sirius punched Harry on the arm and Hermione felt herself blushing again, but it wasn't a product of embarrassment; Harry punched Sirius back and his godfather ruffled the godson's hair-

**BANG!**

Everyone in the table turned to look at Hermione with shocked faces: Ginny's face was dripping pumpkin juice; Hermione's glass had exploded mysteriously- And she had also impaled a potato with her fork. Before anyone could say anything, Hermione stood up from the silent table. "Excuse me," she grunted before leaving the kitchen; leaving everyone to glance at each other in surprise.

Hermione leaned against the wall of the dark hallway and covered her face, wanting to scream. What was the matter with her?! She had just performed accidental magic... Because she was _jealous_! It was ludicrous! Pathetic! Unheard of! Since when calm, collected Hermione performed accidental magic? But the worst was, by far, the actual situation: Jealous of Harry? ARGH! It was so- so- not right!

"Hermione!" She winced at the voice- Just what she needed right now: Harry. She felt so sickened with herself. "What's wrong?" He asked, hugging her. Hermione hugged him back, silently apologizing.

"I- I don't know what came over me," she tried to explain, breaking the hug. "Will the Ministry-,"

"They never did anything to me," Harry cut her off with a smile. "And if I recall correctly, I blew up my aunt." Hermione smiled weakly at him.

"I guess I'm just... worried over the Order and that. Or maybe the O.W.L.s.," She invented, hating the fact that she had to lie to her best friend. Harry smiled at her.

"Well then, once the time of the O.W.L.s. _does_ come, I'll be sure not to leave anything made of glass near you. C'mon, let's go back, Molly's serving dessert." Harry said, putting his arm around her as they walked back to the kitchen. As they entered, and Sirius saw Harry's arm around her shoulders, he scowled again.

"Are you going to blow something else up, Hermione? Maybe I should bring the iron goblets for you to drink in?" He asked nastily. Hermione blushed and lowered her eyes; Harry glared at him and Lupin hit the back of Sirius's head sharply. "Ouch! What was that for?" He asked. Lupin raised an eyebrow at him. "Okay, okay... Sorry, Hermione," he grunted, not looking at her.

"It's alright," she retorted. Harry removed his arm from her shoulders and Sirius glared at him for a split second. In fact, it looked as if no one had noticed this except Hermione...

"Why did you say that, Padfoot?" Lupin asked his friend in a low voice; once Hermione started talking with Harry and Ron. Sirius frowned with a shrug.

"Beats me," he simply replied. Lupin slightly narrowed his eyes at his friend's aggressive tone of voice.

"But-,"

"No, Loony," Sirius cut him off. "I don't want to talk about it." Lupin shook his head and sighed, and Sirius returned to the dessert. Making sure that Lupin was well entertained he stole a glance at Hermione, who was now apologizing to Ginny, and, despite himself, couldn't help but to smile.

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The only sounds that could be heard throughout the silent house came, dimmed, from the kitchen. Hermione was there, washing the alarmingly high pile of dirty dishes; she scrubbed and washed madly, for the action of washing the dishes seemed to soothe her.

Weird.

Hermione wiped some sweat off her forehead with her wrist and drenched her face in water. She didn't bother in drying herself; the room had become quite warm all of a sudden. She moved to tackle the dessert bowls next, when someone put a hand over her shoulder and said "boo!" Hermione jumped out of her skin with a squeak and turned around quickly, pointing the tip of her wand exactly on-

_Sirius's face._

"Bloody hell, Hermione," Sirius said softly. "I could've lost a nostril," he added with a grin. Hermione tried not to let her mouth twitch.

"Well, it would serve you right for sneaking up on me like that!" She stated. "Aren't you too old for that kind of joke, anyway?" She asked. Sirius ran his fingers through his hair and shrugged, making Hermione bite her lower lip.

"Probably, but I just choose to ignore it," he retorted. "What're you doing here? Everybody's sleeping," he said. Hermione smiled.

"You're not," she retorted smugly.

"Really? I hadn't noticed."

"You hardly notice _anything_ these days." Though she had tried to keep a straight face, the mask failed: she had to turn around so he could not see how he always had that effect on her.

**_Fifteen minutes later... _**

"Don't you think I don't know what you're playing at," Sirius suddenly growled, breaking the heavy silence that had fallen between them. Those endlessly long minutes where a battle had taken place, a battle of two prides that refused to admit the truth to each other and recognize defeat. Hermione smiled widely and slowly turned about, leaning against the kitchen sink; her hands resting on the sink's edge.

"What am I playing at?" She felt older, she felt bolder than ever before in her life- this was fun, exciting, new, and terrifying at the same time. Sirius stood up and stepped closer to her.

"You know perfectly well what." He simply replied, coming nearer still. Hermione gulped: part of her wanted to run away and let earth swallow her, but the other part wanted to melt into his arms... She decided to stand her ground.

"Wouldn't you like to join me, then?" She asked with a secure, yet low voice, mustering up all of her Gryffindor courage and timidly touching his chest with her index finger. _"What are you doing?!"_ Her mind shrieked, but Hermione paid no heed to it. Her heart was beating so fast that it almost hurt. Sirius took in a deep breath and put his hands over her wrists, leaving their faces inches apart.

"Hermione... You're playing with fire here," he said in a warning tone.

"And what if I want to get burnt?" Hermione asked in a whisper, looking up and locking her eyes with his; losing herself in the midst of those stormy grey eyes. Sirius's face loomed closer to hers, so close now; she could feel his warm breath on her chin, just a _little bit_ closer-

"Hermione!" Harry's voice exclaimed.

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A/N: Ah! Harry! Longer chapter... I really hoped you liked this one! I also hope that I didn't make them OOC... Forgive me if I did! I have to study for a lot of exams (glares), so I probably won't be able to update until next Thursday or so. On other subject... This story continues to get hit and I get so few reviews! Please, let me know what you think of this! I mean: review. And I accept constructive criticism. That said, I'm off.


	4. The Room

The Room

A/N: Bloody exams! I'm sorry it took a little bit long to post this... I had to write it in between papers and exams and 10 minute breaks... So I hope that it is good.

Disclaimer: Nay! I don't own them. But Sirius didn't go thorough the veil. He's locked inside my wardrobe.

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Hermione jumped and gasped at the same time, rudely awoken from the memories by no other that Harry. Hermione turned to look at him with widened eyes, touching her chest.

"Harry! You scared me!" She wheezed. "Did I fall asleep?" She asked. Harry shook his head no, looking at her with something Hermione could only describe as worry- but what was he worried about?

"You... Well..." Harry started with some difficulty, as if he couldn't find the right words. "You looked petrified." Hermione's brow furrowed and she smiled unconvincingly.

"Harry, that's ridiculous," she retorted with a raspy voice. "_I should really try to speak more often."_ She thought. Harry, again, shook his head.

"Honestly, you _did_ look like that. Your mouth was agape and you weren't blinking," he told her. "As if you had fallen asleep, but you were wide awake," he tried to explain. Hermione smiled and broke the eye contact; facing the ceiling again and closing her eyes.

"Ron's rubbing off on you," she commented barely above a whisper, for some reason feeling drained.

"Don't change the subject, Hermione." The seriousness in Harry's voice made her look at him.

"What?" Hermione sat up slowly, with a groan of tiredness. Harry frowned at this and sat next to her stretched legs and sighed.

"Look, Herm, I don't know what's wro-,"

"I'm alright," Hermione automatically cut him off, closing her eyes once more and resisting the urge to let her body sag. It was just so draining to move; she was so tired... so tired...

"No, you're not alright. You're exhausted." Harry's firm voice made her want to cry; the fact that he was still willing to help her –and was able to see through her lies- was both a terrifying, yet warming thought.

"Harry..." She trailed off with that hollow voice of hers. She wanted to tell him what was going on, what she was feeling; Hermione wanted nothing more that to hug him and cry on his shoulder, confessing how lost and alone she felt... But, for reasons yet unknown, she couldn't bring herself to tell Harry about what she was feeling. She just couldn't! Also, she couldn't muster the strength to open her mouth and user her voice. Harry stared at her.

"I understand if you don't want to talk about it. But I'm here, okay? If you ever need something, don't hesitate. I'm worried about you," he told her softly. Hermione lowered her gaze as her lower lip started trembling. She must not cry, she must not cry... Once she had pulled herself together, she glanced at him.

"Why should you be worried?" Hermione asked in a whisper. Harry raised his eyebrow at the question.

"Maybe because of the rings under your eyes? Rivotril? Because you don't read anymore? I could go on and on." He retorted, and breathed in deeply. "Not to mention the episode in Sirius's bedroom." Hermione's breath hitched at the mention of the room.

"What- what about it? I already told you what had happened-,"

"You wanted to take his pillow with you, Hermione." Harry said. Hermione blushed and looked down and away, trying to figure out what to say.

"R- Really? I- I don't remember that," her voice was shaking. Harry touched her arm gently and Hermione had to look away, for tears had sprung from her eyes. Stupid Harry! Stupid sweetness! Why was she beginning to cry? Why did Harry have to be such a good friend?

"Well, you wanted to." Harry softly said.

"I'm sorry," Hermione whispered, ashamed that he had to see her like that. She could only imagine the look on Harry's face when he saw her on Sirius's bed. What if he suspected something?

"Nah, don't be. I know that you'll talk when you're ready, but I just wanted to let you know that I'm here." Hermione nodded at this, nonchalantly wiping the tears from her eyes before he could notice.

"Thanks. Where are Ron and Ginny?" She quickly changed subjects, away from those very dangerous waters. Harry smiled.

"They're waiting for us in the garden. Are you coming?" Harry wanted to know. Hermione sighed at this. She didn't want to be around people anymore...

"Of course." Maybe her mood would improve if she spent some time with her best friends. As they stood up and walked though the living room, Hermione got lost in her thoughts again. She felt awful. Poor, naïve Harry... It hadn't been the first time she had entered Sirius's room. No... Hermione knew perfectly well why she had entered his bedroom a few nights ago. She wanted to feel him again, wanted to hear his voice...

She had had to content herself with a dusty pillow inside an abandoned room. It had felt so good to smell his scent again, one last time- the pillow wouldn't smell like him again. Hermione knew it was pathetic, clinging to Sirius's old pillow like a child holding on to a mother or father after a nightmare. She wanted to take the pillow because it represented a small piece of him; a small token, something to tide her over- but Hermione knew that it was all in vain. It was all in vain, for he had died two years ago.

As Hermione gazed unseeingly at her friends talking, her feeling of guilt increased. Harry would never talk to her again if he found out what had happened two years ago, in this very house. And what would Ron and Ginny think of her? She shivered at the mere idea of their shocked faces. No, they could not find out. They wouldn't understand.

Oh, if only Hermione could see Sirius again. Just for one day. One hour... Enough to tell him how she missed him and loved him.

She knew she couldn't.

-+-

_She was back, back in that awful courtroom. But the room wasn't as silent as it had been when they first entered, and they weren't just six people. At least twelve people were fighting around Hermione; their spells hitting the walls, ricocheting off the stone benches, and the veil swung back and forth ominously, as if it was excited with the duels and the screams. Someone pushed Hermione and she stumbled down the staircases, but it didn't hurt at all. She could feel the floor under her, she could hear the screams and sense the anger floating around; but she couldn't feel. _

_She saw Harry trying to hold on to Neville and the wild dance his feet were making; she saw Tonks duelling with a Death Eater; she saw Lupin, and Dumbledore- Hermione stood up and spotted Sirius, and her heart leapt. He was fiercely duelling who looked to be... Bellatrix? Her face scared Hermione, who opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. Desperately she tried looking for her wand, but it wasn't in her pocket anymore! Sirius looked alert and taunted Bellatrix, challenging her, driving her crazy..._

_Not that she needed the incentive. _

_Tears of horror filled Hermione's eyes as he ducked the first jet of red light; but he wasn't so lucky with the second one: it hit straight to his chest. Hermione mouthed a scream and tried to run towards Sirius, to stop his fall; THE VEIL WAS JUST BEHIND HIM! "No!" Hermione sobbed; but her legs wouldn't move any faster, no, they weren't fast enough, they felt heavy, as if made of lead- Sirius was falling, falling backwards in slow motion, his eyes sported a shocked look. _

_Hermione frantically searched for her wand and it suddenly was in her hand. "Accio Sirius! Accio Sirius!" She tried first, but the spell wouldn't work, goddammit! "Locomotor mortis! Wingardium Leviosa! ACCIO SIRIUS, ACCIO!" But her wand wasn't responding, and Sirius was now inches from falling into the veil- "STOP, SIRIUS, STOP! ACCIO, ACCIO!!" She knew the spell wasn't working, but there was nothing else she could do: her face streaming with tears, her legs wouldn't move, and the stupid wand wasn't helping. "DON'T FALL!" Hermione ended up screeching. "DON'T LEAVE ME! WHY DON'T YOU STOP FALLING?!" Her voice was breaking down to pieces, and he couldn't hear her. _

_The last thing she heard was Bellatrix laughter; the last thing she felt was her heart breaking; the last thing she saw was his handsome figure being engulfed by the veil-_

"SIRIUS!" Hermione breathed, straightening up on her bed. She looked madly around and it took her nearly a minute to register where she was. Hermione felt her body trembling uncontrollably. She cradled her head in her hands and discovered that she was drenched in cold sweat, and that there were tears mixed with the droplets of perspiration. She looked over to the clock on her bedside table, which read 3.30 a.m.

She hadn't been there when Sirius died. She had been unconscious, in another room... Had that been the way he had died? Hermione considered asking Harry, but definitely not right now, no matter how desperate she was. Waking up her best friend in the wee hours of the morning to ask him how his godfather had died was unthinkable.

Hermione lay back on the mattress and covered her face, trying to slow down her breathing. She could not shake the look on Sirius's face from her eyes, or her own screaming from her ears. _"'Why don't you stop falling?'?" _Hermione recalled the nightmare. What was _that_ about? She had sounded like a three year old having a tantrum. Or... was it possible that she was blaming Sirius for everything she was going through now, and then? Hermione felt disgusted at herself at this.

Sirius had _not_ wanted to die. Sirius was _not_ to blame for what she was going through. It was all her fault: her incapability for getting over it. True, if nothing had happened with Sirius, maybe his death wouldn't have affected her so much, but... Goodness! She didn't regret about anything when it came to him. "Don't leave me?" She muttered to herself. Maybe the nightmare was simply about her pent up feelings; what she had never admitted to no one.

Hermione rolled over and looked at the clock again. 4.10 a.m. Truth to be told, Hermione had never quite admitted to herself that Sirius was gone. Not at first, at least...

_-Flashback-_

_Apparently, it was late night when she woke up. Why did she always wake up in the night? The strong smell of potions reached her nostrils and she opened her eyes to find the high, cavernous ceiling of the infirmary. "So I'm not dead," was the first though that popped in Hermione's head. But that also meant that they were no longer in the Department of Mystery! The battle had ended. Had the Prophecy been saved? Where were Harry, Ron, Ginny, and Luna? Were they alright? _

_Hermione rolled to her side carefully, with a groan, and clutched her side. Ron was lying in the bed next to hers, fast asleep. She noted the bandages on his arms. She looked towards the end of her bed and saw Harry sleeping on a chair, and her heart shrunk when she saw his face, illuminated by the moonlight: she had never seen him look more defeated. What had happened to him? He didn't look physically hurt... _

_Hermione was so thirsty. Her gaze fell on the bedside table and spotted two glasses of water, next to a dozen potions (or so it looked like). Trying not to make a noise, she stretched her arm towards one of the glasses. She felt weak and a bit dizzy; the last thing she remembered was Dolohov's purple jet of light. Her fingers grasped the glass firmly, but when she lifted, the glass slipped from her hand and crashed on the floor- Hermione flinched and she heard Harry jumping on his chair. _

"_Whozzair?!" He said sleepily, grabbing his wand. Hermione stared at him and Harry widened his eyes, immediately going over to her side. Up close, Harry looked even more defeated and distressed. The spark that usually shone inside his eyes was gone. "Hermione! You're awake!" He whispered, grinning. "Wait a sec," he added, pointing at the broken glass and muttering 'Reparo'._

"_Harry, what happened? How is everybody? Are you alright? What about the Prophecy?" As she fired questions at him, the grin on his face steadily faltered, disappearing completely at the mention of the Prophecy. _

"_Tonks is in St. Mungos, but everybody else is okay," Harry answered at last. "I'm alright." He told her. Hermione frowned at this. Harry had avoided her last question; and she knew he wasn't being completely honest with her._

"_And the Prophecy?" She pressed. Harry looked away and didn't answer at first._

"_It- It broke. We couldn't hear it." His voice sounded strangely high pitched. Hermione scowled._

"_At least Voldemort didn't get it," she retorted. "What about Sirius? Is he safe? Did someone from the Ministry see him?" Harry fixed his eyes on hers without a word, and Hermione did not like the way his brow had furrowed as if he was about to cry. That couldn't mean good news. Anxiety sprung inside her chest. _

"_Harry... Where is Sirius?" Hermione asked slowly, trying to ease the sudden gut feeling that something had gone wrong. She waited for Harry to tell her that he was alright, hiding in Grimmauld Place. Maybe he had been hit by some hexes and he wasn't exactly okay. Yes, that was it. "But why would Harry look like that if it was the case?" A petulant, small voice said inside her head. Her best friend still hadn't spoken a word._

"_He's gone." Harry whispered, lowering his eyes. Hermione simply stared at him. The silence was such that it was almost palpable; for a few moments Ron's breathing could be heard. _

"_You're lying." Hermione answered, transfixed. Her breathing was constricted; a lump formed inside her throat, and her blood froze for a few seconds. Harry was lying. Sirius couldn't have died. It was just irrational to think that he would no longer walk on the earth. It wasn't logical. Harry gazed at her again; his eyes looked bloodshot._

"_He's gone," he repeated. Hermione cheek twitched._

"_No." No, it wasn't possible. Sirius couldn't be... be... No. Her view became blurry. "Don't even joke about things like that," she added barely above a whisper. The rational part of her brain knew that Harry was not lying to her, but a much bigger part of her didn't want to believe it. Harry looked hurt._

"_I'm not joking, Hermione," he replied with a trembling voice. "He- He fell into the veil..." he trailed off. Hermione's sight was only water, as the tears started cascading down her cheeks. It maddened her that she was not able to stop them; and the fact that Harry was saying those things made her angrier still._

"_Stop lying to me!" Hermione hissed with her eyes wide, sitting up on her bed. The dizziness she had first felt when she woke up returned with full strength, and she was still weak, but she didn't care. Harry stared at her with his mouth slightly agape. _

"_Hermione-" He began, reaching out to touch her hand, but she tensed. _

"_Don't you touch me!" She nearly shrieked, her fingers moving to the bedside table and wildly searching for a wand. Her hand grabbed one and pointed it towards Harry's face; who looked even more shocked, if that was still possible. Air, air, Hermione needed air, she was suffocating. Thirsty, thirsty, her mouth was so dry. Through her tears, she could see the hand that held the wand shaking. The sheets that covered her body flew away and Hermione tried to get out of the bed, but Harry had stood up and tried to force her to lie down._

"_Hermione, you're too weak, you can't get out-" _

"_Don't make me hex you, Harry!" Hermione squealed, panting heavily, pointing the wand at his face again. She needed air, she was suffocating; she needed to get out of there; she needed to contact Sirius somehow! Harry widened his eyes and backed away slowly._

"_Please, Hermione, you'll hurt yourself!" Harry nearly begged. But Hermione didn't pay any heed to him, still clutching the wand, as she stood up on wobbly legs. How long had she been in bed? She tried to clear her view from the tears, but it was hopeless. Sobbing and panting at the same time, Hermione stepped forwards and nearly fell flat on her face; but used the bed for support._

_Every step was a struggle, and every inch of her body moaned with pain, but Hermione could care less. Her head was hurting... She grabbed her side and, as she waltzed drunkenly through the beds, Harry quickly turned around and began knocking on Madam Pomfrey's door, calling for her. _

"_No, Harry!" Hermione howled; she heard Ron's gasp from being awaken. As Madam Pomfrey opened the door and acknowledged what was going on, Hermione finally did what she had promised to do. "Stupefy!" She sobbed, but because of her poor aim, the curse hit the stone wall just above Harry's and Madam Pomfrey's heads. _

"_Miss Granger!" Pomfrey shrieked, whipping her own wand from her bathrobe's pocket. _

"_Harry, what-?" Ron's confused voice could be heard. Hermione resumed her walking; now nearing the door._

"_Let me go," Hermione ended up wailing. "Harry's lying," she added, glaring at Harry. She sobbed on the spot and her weak legs wouldn't hold her anymore, so she fell down to the floor and curled into a foetal position. Hermione knew she looked pathetic, but she couldn't help it. She felt empty; she felt as if fine winding tendrils were strangling her heart. _

"_She's in shock," Madam Pomfrey's voice floated above her, distantly. "Mister Potter, kindly remove that wand from her hand- I'm going to fetch some Dreamless potion." The sounds came distorted to her ears... She could hear Ron's questions, but nobody was answering him... She felt someone taking the wand away from her grasp, and then proceeding to lift her up. Hermione didn't have the energy to fight against Harry's firm grip as he carried her back to her bed._

"_He's not dead, Harry," she weakly whispered. "He can't be dead..."_

_-+-_

"Geez, Hermione, you look terrible,"

"Good morning to you too," Hermione muttered, taking a sip from her coffee. Harry grinned and sat down next to her with a cup of tea. "I couldn't sleep," Hermione answered before Harry could even ask. "Nightmare," she murmured. Harry raised his eyebrows.

"Oh? What about?" He wanted to know. Hermione looked down on her coffee and let the vapour lick her cheeks for a few seconds.

"I don't remember," she lied. Harry snorted.

"Yeah, I find the feeling familiar," he retorted. Hermione gathered her courage and bored her eyes into his.

"Actually, Harry... I was wondering if I could ask you something." Harry looked mildly surprised.

"Of course," he replied. Hermione breathed in deeply.

"I was wondering... If you could tell me... What caused Sirius to fall through the Veil?"

-+-+-

A/N: What a long chapter! I hope you don't get bored reading it... Anyway. Once again, I only ask of you... Leave a review! It's kind of discouraging, you know? I'm being honest. Anyway. Thanks to all of you who do review... Your reviews mean a lot to me!


	5. In a second

In a second

A/N: Well, the exams are finally over! I got stuck in the middle of the chapter with a writer's block, so I hope that this is good. I'm having a lot of trouble when it comes to Harry and Hermione; it's hard for me to write them as friends and nothing more... (sigh). I really want to do some sort of 'Christmas special' in the next chapters, so... on with the chapter!

Disclaimer: Nope, not yet.

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Harry stared at her; he didn't look angry- just surprised. No one could blame him, really; since what had happened in the infirmary nearly three years ago, they had never again talked about Sirius. Hermione stared back, biting her lower lip.

"Um... Well- Why do you want to know?" Harry asked. Hermione shrugged.

"Just... Curious." Harry screwed his face up thoughtfully.

"Neville had been hit with the _Tarantallegra_," Harry began slowly, and Hermione widened her eyes, but didn't interrupt. "I was holding him... I had the Prophecy. Tonks fell down the stairs, yes... Then Dumbledore came." Hermione's mouth was suddenly very dry... "Well, he rounded up all the Death Eaters except for Bellatrix, who was duelling with Sirius."

_**She saw Harry trying to hold on to Neville and the wild dance his feet were making; she saw Tonks duelling with a Death Eater; she saw Lupin, and Dumbledore- Hermione stood up and spotted Sirius, and her heart leapt. He was fiercely duelling who looked to be... Bellatrix? Her face scared Hermione, who opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out.**_

"Sirius... He ducked the first _Stupefy_," Harry continued in a low voice, glaring at his cup of coffee as if he was seeing Bellatrix's face in it. Hermione tried to swallow and she stared at the sink, remembering the dream.

"But not the second one," she whispered without noticing.

**_Tears of horror filled Hermione's eyes as he ducked the first jet of red light; but he wasn't so lucky with the second one: it hit straight to his chest._ **

Harry sharply looked up at her, with a frown. "How could you have known that?" He demanded. Hermione blinked a couple of times and tried her best to feign innocence.

"Lucky guess?" She tried. Harry slightly narrowed his eyes at her. "Yeah..." he trailed off with suspicion. "Anyway... Well, you got it right. Straight to the chest," Harry continued, clearly beginning to feel uncomfortable with the memories. "You know... He was still smiling when he fell," he commented with a strange, detached voice. "His back had formed an arch... _She_ was laughing... And... He fell." Harry's voice died down and he fell silent. Hermione's insides squirmed with guilt and she moved to touch Harry's hand gently.

"I'm sorry I made you remember that," she told him, and she was being honest. It _had_ been a selfish thing to do. Harry smiled at her.

"Don't be. I also had to tell Ron, when the time came. But I wasn't as emotional as today, though," he replied, making Hermione chuckle.

"Did you just chuckle?" Harry asked playfully, and Hermione fought to keep her face straight.

"Nah... I'd be forced to move too many facial muscles," she retorted, making Harry grin. Hermione grinned back and suddenly realized how much she had missed smiling.

-+-

The cold, sharp wind blew snowflakes around the street, which was slightly covered in frost. The snow made crunching noises as their feet stepped over the sidewalk; and the comfortable peace was only broken with the sounds of the trees moving with the wind. Harry and Hermione walked in silence towards the nearest subway; Harry was going to work (Aurors still had a lot of work to do) and Hermione had tagged along for two reasons.

First, she might be able to get a job. She regretted quitting on the other one... After the talk with Harry about Sirius's death, and her VERY vivid dream, she had felt the need to get out of that house. Maybe, the problem was that she spent too much time locked in there. And second, Christmas was coming. This season reminded her of Sirius and how it had all started: Too many memories, plus Grimmauld Place, minus Sirius, multiplied by the fact that she was alone most of the time, equalled disaster.

So there she was, walking though a December blizzard and feeling alive again. She felt cheerful, free, and had energy to spare.

The Dementor living in Grimmauld Place would pay, dammit.

Hermione giggled as she thought that; and the sound made Harry smile. She seemed to be another person: the old Hermione he remembered. When she had requested if they could walk instead of apparating, he hadn't had the heart to refuse. Though this meant that Hermione actually wanted to _move_, he had been concerned that Hermione wouldn't be able to make it to the tube station. For a few months now, little efforts seemed to drain her. But the walk hadn't drained her. She was very much alive and kicking next to him, she was even giggling!

"I knew you had to get out of the house," Harry broke the silence. Hermione breathed in deeply and nodded.

"Yeah," she replied, smiling. "I hope I can get a job," she added. Harry grinned.

"Hermione, you _have_ gotten twelve outstanding N.E.W.T.s and eleven O.W.L.s," he told her, making Hermione blush. "But if that doesn't convince them, we can always ask Ron to pull a few strings," he added. Hermione's smile widened.

"I hope it doesn't get to that," she said. "Either way, I just want to have something to do rather than lying on the couch," she added.

"I totally agree," Harry told her, happy that she was so... not worked up about that problem of hers. This could only mean improvement.

Right?

-+-

Hermione just couldn't stop smiling as they entered the Ministry of Magic. Wizards and witches fell to the floor from the chimneys and some others apparated, but all shook the snow off their clothes and smiled in relief to the warmness inside the atrium. Hermione just loved that, but she didn't know why. She followed Harry through the crowd and waited for the elevator to come in silence. Once it did they stepped in, followed by several sleepy looking people. Harry pressed number two and then another serious looking wizard pressed number nine.

Hermione's breath hitched as the elevator went down slowly, rattling. Harry also looked uncomfortable, but neither of them spoke a word. The noise around Hermione seemed to dim down and there was nothing else except her nervous breathing. "Department of Mysteries," said the cool female voice, and the doors opened. Hermione stared at the door at the end of the corridor, transfixed. She wanted to enter that room again. Something called to her, something willing her to step out of that stupid elevator and just step inside that circular room again; daring her to find the one with the veil in it-

"Hermione," Harry's voice broke her reverie. She blinked and discovered with much surprise that Harry was actually holding her back as the wizard stepped out of the elevator and walked towards the door at the end of the corridor. She wanted to follow him. Harry squeezed her shoulder, she blinked again, the doors closed, and the feeling was gone.

"Sorry," Hermione apologized in a daze, while Harry looked at her worriedly. They didn't speak again, but Harry kept glancing at her furtively, cautiously. Once they had reached level two, Harry at once went over Auror headquarters (Hermione slowly walking behind him), where they found a yawning Ron sitting on the chair behind his desk. He looked up and beamed at the sight of his best friends.

"Harry, mate," he greeted, shaking his hand with Harry's. "Hermione, how are you?" Ron asked next, going over to kiss her on the cheek. Hermione didn't answer at first, but then she slightly shook her head and looked at him. She looked millions of miles away from were they where.

"Oh, hi Ron... Good morning," her voice was slightly off, and she moved to kiss his cheek. She couldn't get the image of the dark corridor out of her mind. Why had she felt that urge to return there? Ron glanced at Harry with a questioning glance and Harry looked at him meaningfully.

"What brings you here, Hermione?" Ron asked, going over to sit on his chair again. Hermione was staring at the elevator at the far end of the corridor.

"I'm looking for a job," she answered slowly. "Something muggle related..." she trailed off, as if she wasn't even aware that she was talking. Ron smiled.

"Well... You either can get one in the office were my dad used to work... Or maybe in the offices on level five," he suggested. Hermione nodded absentmindedly and then seemed to snap out of whatever she was thinking to look at Ron with the ghost of a smile.

"Yes, I had that in mind... At least I'll be close to you guys... Where is that office?" She asked.

"The other side of the floor," Harry replied. Hermione agreed with her head.

"Well then... I'm going to see if I can get something. See you later," she told them, going out of the cubicle and disappearing around the corridor. Ron gazed at Harry.

"What's wrong with her?" he immediately wanted to know. Harry shrugged.

"When we got to the elevator, we had to go down to level nine," Harry began. "The door opened and her eyes unfocused when she saw the corridor. It freaked me out, to be honest. I had to grab her shoulder for her not to go out," he explained. Ron frowned.

"Why would she want to go down there?" Ron voiced the question that drilled Harry's mind.

"Heck, it beats me. But I didn't like the look on her face. Freaky, I tell you." He said. Ron shook his head.

"And how is she doing?" He wanted to know. Harry sighed.

"Well... Apparently she had a nightmare that kept her up the whole night. She doesn't want to tell what's wrong with her, but what shocked me the most is that today, well; she asked me how Sirius had died." Harry said. Ron raised his eyebrows.

"Just out of the blue?"

"Yeah. As I told her she had this weird, terrified look in her eyes. I'm telling you, Ron, something is seriously wrong with her." Harry was clearly upset.

"Indeed..." Ron said. "But at least she got out of the house today, didn't she? That's good." He added. Harry sighed again.

"I guess so. But still..." Something in his friend's voice made Ron widen his eyes in surprise.

"Harry... You don't _fancy_ Hermione, do you?" He questioned. Harry looked down and didn't reply- When he looked up, his cheeks were slightly pink.

"Of course I don't," he responded aggressively. Ron raised his right eyebrow but didn't say anything. Harry looked straight into his eyes and then pursed his lips, as if admitting defeat.

"Okay, maybe a little," he finally confessed in a mutter. Ron grinned.

"And what about her?" He asked. Harry glared at him.

"How should I know? She hasn't been exactly talkative these past months, as I'm sure you have noticed," he replied. Ron raised his eyebrows and then his hands.

"Whoa, okay... Didn't know you were so sensible about it,"

"I'm _not_ sensible about it," Harry hissed. Before Ron could utter a reply, Hermione appeared at the door again with a grin on her face.

"They accepted me!" She exclaimed before either of the boys could ask anything. "They want my curriculum, but they'll let me bring it tomorrow. Isn't it great?" Her enthusiasm was such that Ron and Harry couldn't help but to swell with pride at their best friend. Hermione beamed at them and then went to hug Harry, causing the slight blush on his cheeks to spread to his neck.

"Thank you, Harry," Hermione's voice came muffled, and Harry clumsily patted her on the back.

"For what?"

"Oh, in a way, it was you who convinced me to get out of that house," Hermione explained, smiling at him.

"Really? Well... I'm glad," he replied, not looking at her eyes. As Hermione hugged him again, Ron lifted a piece of paper on which he had written _"YOU REMIND ME OF GINNY"_ for Harry to read. Once he did, he turned scarlet red. With a subtle wave of Harry's wand, the paper now said _"SHUT UP, WANKER. SHE LEAVES AND IT'S AVADA FOR YOU"_. Ron laughed loudly at this.

-+-

"I'm exhausted," Hermione happily said as they walked towards Grimmauld Place again. It was very cold and it was getting dark, but she didn't seem to mind. Ron, who had decided to spend some time with them, pursed his lips.

"You look too cheerful to be exhausted," he grunted. "It's not as if you did much today," he added. Hermione frowned.

"Where's Luna, Ron?" Harry asked quickly, sensing that an argument was coming. His friend sighed.

"Oh, you know her. I sent her a memo in the Ministry, but who knows if she got it. I told her to come to Grimmauld Place... Hope you don't mind?" He asked. Hermione shook her head.

"Of course not. Where is she working, anyway? Is she still in the magical accidents and catastrophes department?" She asked. Ron nodded.

"Yeah, and enjoying it immensely," he said with a smile. Luna and Ron had gotten together quite a long ago, nearly a year, if Hermione was not much mistaken. In some ways, Hermione was kind of envious of their relationship. They were so happy.

Soon enough they found themselves in front of Grimmauld Place, going up the even more worn steps, and Hermione's gut clenched at this. It reminded her of that fateful winter day, two years ago. Harry knocked on the door, making the other two look at him in surprise.

"Oh, yeah, I forgot to tell you... I have a surprise for you!" Harry said to Hermione and Ron. "Someone's coming over to visit. He must be here already!" he announced excitedly. He must have tried not to show his excitement during the day. Well, he had done a good job. Hermione was about to ask who when they heard footsteps nearing the door, and she turned to stare at it. Snowflakes were falling on her head...

The heard the lock go _'click'_ and the door slowly opened. Hermione looked up at the person and let out a strangled gasp. As the sharp moonlight illuminated the door in one second, in one _split_, _terrible_, _horrifying_ and _exhilarating_ second, she saw Sirius standing there, smiling at her.

-+-

A/N: Oooooooh! I hope that this is a good cliffhanger. Sirius? What? Where? (grins) Changing the subject. This story's now been hit like 868 times... Does this mean you people like it or not?? Please let me know by reviewing! Pretty please? On the other hand, for those who do review... Thanks a million!


	6. Delusional

Delusional

A/N: Well! Here it is! The answer you were waiting for (?). I really, really hope you like this chapter. I think this may be my favourite. Oh, and I might add... For those of you who are a bit uncomfortable with the age gap between Sirius and Hermione, I can only tell you that "Lolita" has left issues. Even though Hermione is the most unlikely Lolita ever, it's still fun to play with the concept. That said... On with the story!

Disclaimer: Oh yes, I'm about to sue that Rowling woman that stole my beloved characters. Right. Needless to say, I don't own them.

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But as seconds tend to be short, Sirius was gone as Hermione gasped once again, covering her mouth. Lupin stood there instead; they had not seen him in months.

"Hello there," Lupin greeted them with a growing smile. Hermione could not utter a word, still disturbed over what she had imagined. She was losing her marbles; she was going delusional. She found that she actually felt scared. Scared to death and close to tears. As a lump formed in her throat and her eyes started shimmering with tears, she hid her face.

"Lupin!" She heard Ron exclaim. Hermione couldn't look up again, afraid of what she would be seeing; Hermione fought to keep her tears at bay, but it proved to be too much for her.

"Excuse me!" She exclaimed with a hoarse voice, without looking up, and nearly pushed Lupin in her hurry to get inside the house and climb the stairs as she began sobbing. Lupin, Ron and Harry all stared at her go, shocked.

"I better go to her," Harry immediately said, following her steps. Lupin looked at Ron with questions in his eyes, making Ron sigh.

"C'mon, I'll tell you all about it," he said with resignation, entering the house and closing the door behind him.

Hermione reached her room, now sobbing, and slammed the door after her. She covered her face with her hands and slid down to the floor, drawing up her knees. That had been too much. Too bloody much... She had just mistaken Lupin for Sirius! She choked and sobbed hopelessly.

Hermione had to admit that there were no other words to describe what was going inside of her than the following: this had scared the shit out of her. Was she going mental? Should she get a check up at St. Mungos? No. She had read somewhere about Freudian slips... Maybe it was that... But it made it all the worse. Sirius was DEAD.

"You're dead, you're dead, you're dead..." Hermione repeated over and over again, choking on the whispers.

"Hermione? Hermione, may I come in?" She recognized Harry's voice and whimpered. Silence. "Please, Hermione," he was begging. Hermione just couldn't face him. Not now. Not now when there was a chance that something Harry shouldn't know could escape her lips. She couldn't breathe properly; she must be hyperventilating... But the sobs wouldn't stop; a harrowing feeling rising in her.

For one life saving (and breath taking) second, she had believed she'd see Sirius again. It felt as if he had died all over again. But it was gone... That wonderful breath of life had been nothing but a delusion from her mind. This thought made her cry harder, and Harry resumed the knocking on the door. If he carried on that way, he'd be breaking it down. Hermione tried to stand, but her legs wouldn't hold her.

This reminded her of the time when Harry had told her Sirius was dead... Hermione tried to breathe and clutched her head: a headache was starting to form in there; she crawled towards her bed but stopped in the way. There was something growing in her throat, something that yearned to come out; if she didn't release it soon, she was going to choke. No, no, she had to fight it. But she couldn't; she felt as if she was going to explode. Hermione opened her mouth and screamed. Just screamed as her knuckles went white and more tears sprung out of her closed eyes. Her head was spinning...

The high, desperate scream could be heard all through the house. Ron and Lupin stopped talking and stared at the kitchen door, startled. Harry, on the other hand, opened Hermione's room with his wand at ready, only to find Hermione sobbing on the floor, lying on her stomach. He had never heard someone sobbing like that. Her body was shaking... Harry rushed over to her side and kneeled next to her, touching her shoulder. She flinched and then tensed.

"Hermione," he only said. She looked up at him with a horrified look on her face and backed away from him using her hands, looking wildly at him. Hermione didn't deserve being treated like that.

"Go away, Harry," she croaked, tears sliding down her cheeks. She covered her face and began rocking back and forth softly. "Go away, go away, go away," she began repeating over and over again. This did nothing more that to scare Harry even more. He scooted closer to her.

"Hermione, what's wrong? Tell me!" He demanded. Hermione shook her head and sobbed. No one could know, no one would ever understand; she had never felt more alone.

"I can't, Harry, I can't," she wailed. "Go away, go away..."

"I won't," Harry firmly said. Hermione uncovered her face and glared at him.

"GO AWAY!" she shrieked. Harry widened his eyes, hurt, but didn't move an inch. He was determined to help her, no matter what. When Hermione saw that he hadn't left her, she broke down into sobs again.

"I'm sorry Harry, I'm so sorry..." She trailed off. She wasn't talking about her outburst- She was talking about Sirius. Harry smiled at her.

"It's alright, Herm..." He trailed off, hugging her. Hermione didn't return the embrace, even though she wanted to. She broke the hug and tried to wipe the tears from her eyes.

"I- I just need- To lie down," she said between the hiccups. "I'm very- very tired," she tried to explain. Harry nodded and helped her up, and Hermione didn't refuse. She knew she wasn't going to be able to reach the bed. If it were for her, she'd lay right there on the floor. Who cared? She just wanted to sleep; to find refuge in the oblivion that sleeping was... Harry helped her lie down on bed and sat on the edge of it, staring at her sniff and try to clean her eyes.

"D'you want to me to- to stay with you?" Harry asked nervously. Hermione slightly shook her head and patted his hand; smiling weakly.

"You go down there. You haven't seen S- Lupin in a while," she corrected herself in mid sentence, beginning to cry again. Harry's brow furrowed slightly, but chose not to say anything.

"He's coming back tomorrow," he chose to reply. Hermione nodded.

"Great then, but Harry, I can't make you stay here... I'll be alright." That didn't sound true to even her own ears. Harry looked down and away. "It's not that I don't want to you here, Harry," she immediately added. "I just... Need to be alone for a little while." Well, that was true. Harry sighed and slowly stood up.

"Call me if you need anything," he only told her; he stole a glance at her one more time and left the room, softly closing the door after him. Hermione waited until he was gone and once again started crying. He was so nice to her; always so considerate... Hermione wouldn't have a problem with starting a relationship with Harry if it wasn't for what had happened with Sirius. Something stopped her from actually _really_ fancying Harry.

You can't have an affair (if it could be called that) with the godfather and then move to tackle the godson. It just wasn't right.

But would it always be this way? Would Hermione end up her days as an old spinster, because of Sirius? Because of a person who had passed away two years ago? Would every chance of having a love life be tainted by what she had done? Bloody hell; leave alone a love life... What about simply... A life? Her life?

Hermione rolled on the bed and stared at the ceiling, which was blurry. The headache was growing... Where had her insides gone to...?

_- Flashback-_

"_And what if I want to get burnt?" Hermione asked in a whisper, looking up and locking her eyes with his; losing herself in the midst of those stormy grey eyes. Sirius's face loomed closer to hers, so close now; she could feel his warm breath on her chin, just a little bit closer-_

_And his lips met hers._

_Hermione was now sure that her insides had exploded. How could she explain the way her stomach was turning otherwise? She didn't have much experience when it came to kisses- After all; the only boy she had ever kissed had been Viktor. And even though he was older and naturally more experienced than her... Bloody hell, the kiss she was now sharing with Sirius just made her want to spit on the Bulgarian's face._

_Hermione wasn't sure if her knees would hold her up much longer as Sirius gently cupped her face and deepened the kiss... In fact, he wasn't even being aggressive. The one getting aggressive was her. Hermione knew it was all wrong; she knew that he was old enough to be her father; she knew perfectly well that this was Harry's godfather..._

_But who gave a damn about it?_

_Hermione briefly broke the kiss to regain oxygen and Sirius followed suit. Hermione glanced at him and, with some surprise, saw that he looked scared._

"_Hermione- You know this is all wro-" Hermione put her finger over his lips and nodded._

"_I know. But I don't care. If this is a mistake, it's mine to make," she whispered. _

"_I shouldn't have kissed you," he whispered back, swallowing. Hermione knew he didn't want to leave. "Maybe we should-" He was abruptly cut off by Hermione's mouth, as she locked her arms around his neck._

_Depraved, wasn't it?_

_Sirius put his arms around her and softly lifted her up until she was sitting on the kitchen sink... _

_-End flashback-_

Hermione blinked and sat up with a start. She couldn't hear anything save for her breathing. She knew she hadn't fallen asleep, though, the stinging in her eyes told her that. She was used to it by now: her head hit the pillow and sleep would simply fade. Hermione sighed as she touched her swollen eyes and looked at the clock on the bedside table. It read 2.00 a.m. Had she looked petrified, like Harry had said, as she remembered Sirius?

Running her hands through her hair she swung her legs over the bed and sat on the bed's edge, resting her elbows on her knees and rubbing her face. She could use a Dreamless potion right now. Hermione felt so tired that she just wanted to cry out of pure frustration for not being able to sleep.

She removed her hands from her face and stared at her bedside table. Her stare fixed upon the plastic bottle full of Rivotril next to an empty glass of water... Hermione grabbed her wand and positioned the tip over the glass. "_Aguamenti,_" she muttered. As water flowed from the tip of her wand she seized the bottle and shook it; the pills rattled invitingly inside of it. Hermione sighed at this and, leaving her wand next to the glass, opened the lid. She let two pills fall on her open palm and stared at them.

"Cheers," she muttered as she put the pills in her mouth and drank the water.

_**Half an hour later...**_

Hermione stumbled out of her room and giggled at the loud noise she had made when she almost slammed against a wall. Once she had regained balance she started walking slowly, pausing every now and then because, for some strange reason, the hallway walls kept moving around her. Or was it just the floor? Hermione couldn't really think clearly, if we came to the case, but she knew where she wanted to go and that was all she needed. Drunkenly she dragged her feet; she was so sleepy now; her eyes kept dropping as if she had lead in her eyelids, but she would be there soon.

_-Flashback-_

_Hermione bit her lower lip, sitting on her bed in the room she shared with Ginny, wondering if she was planning to do was the right thing. It had been two days since Sirius had kissed her in the kitchen, and Hermione wanted to kiss him again. For the past two days, Sirius and she had done nothing but steal glances at each other over dinner or when they were cleaning the house..._

_Ginny snored in the bed next to her and Hermione smiled. If this was the time to do it, then she better do it right now. Everyone was sleeping. No one would know. Hermione stood up and carefully went over to the bedroom door; checked if Ginny was still soundly asleep, and went out of the room. As the door closed behind her, she couldn't help but to feel excited. _

_She knew it was all wrong, but, bloody hell, if she was going to be a pervert for lusting after Sirius, then she was going to be a happy one._

_-End flashback-_

Hermione's smile widened as she neared her goal and started giggling again as she stumbled on the carpet. Everything was blurry around her. Her body swayed as she walked and finally reached the old door. She let her body rest against the wood for a few seconds and grabbed the doorknob. She tried opening but, as her grip was too weak, it was a while before Hermione actually managed to open the door.

_-Flashback-_

_Like a cat, Hermione swiftly tiptoed all the way towards Sirius's room, and nearly began jumping when she found his door slightly open. Hermione breathed in deeply and carefully pushed the door open, taking a peep inside. Sirius wasn't sleeping; she could see his silhouette by the window. Biting her lip and grinning widely, she purposely closed the door at little bit harder than needed. _

_Sirius immediately turned around, but Hermione couldn't make out his expression in the darkness that reigned in the bedroom. Sirius apparently could. "Her- Hermione?" He asked barely above a whisper, with a raspy voice. "What're you doing here?" He wanted to know. Hermione walked towards him until she stood next to him by the window. Without a word, she leaned in and kissed him._

_-End flashback-_

The smell of dust reached her nose and Hermione swaggered. She was back in his room, back in Sirius room; she had missed this place, yes, she had. This was her sanctuary.

"I knew you'd be coming here tonight," Harry's voice broke through the silence, as he stood up from a chair near the door.

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A/N: Well, there it is! Chapter six! I particularly liked this one... If you thought Hermione overreacted when she mistook Lupin for Sirius, let me disagree with you. I went through something _very_ nasty a couple of weeks ago, and I reacted that way. So if you're going to blame anyone for the overreaction... You can blame me. Hehe. Anyway... I hope you liked this chapter! Now you have to review! Bye!


	7. Godson

Godson

A/N: Well, this was a hard chapter to write... I hope that you find it good... Not much left to say. Don't forget to review once you're done... Enjoy the chapter!

Disclaimer: Mmmm... Last I checked, I didn't own them. Bugger.

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Hermione paused and blinked, holding on to the doorway to maintain balance. Harry? Was Harry in her memories? No, he wasn't. What was he doing in here then? Her eyelids dropped. "What are you _zoing _here?" she slurred, frowning lightly. "You shouldn't be here..." she trailed off; her body felt heavy and she leaned forwards dangerously. Harry frowned and walked closer to her.

"No, _you_ shouldn't be here, Hermione!" He hissed. "I'm taking you back right now," he added. Hermione gazed up at him with that unfocused look in her eyes again.

"You... Can't tell me what to _zo_ or stop _zoing_," she retorted, swaggering. That said, Hermione removed her hand from the doorframe and waltzed towards Sirius's bed.

"No, Hermione!" Harry ordered. It killed him to see her like this. Why was she so keen on returning to this awful room? Sirius had slept in here! He had lived in here! How could she stand it?! Hermione didn't pay heed to his exclamation and flung herself on Sirius's bed, adopting a foetal position.

"Now, Harry, let me sleep..." She said barely above a whisper. Harry brandished his wand and resolutely walked towards the bed.

"Hermione, don't make me do something I'll regret," he said softly. Yes, if he had to, he'd put her on the locomortis and carry her to her room. Hermione had closed her eyes.

"I'm very _zired_, Harry..." Her voice was only a whisper now. Harry's frown intensified and it suddenly dawned on him why was Hermione acting the way she was. He stepped closer to her and grabbed her arm, softly but firmly turning her around.

"Hermione, how many pills did you take?" He questioned. Hermione smiled widely, with her eyes still closed.

"I _zidin't_ take pills," she finally replied, trying to return to her old position. Harry kept a firm grip around her arm, refusing to let go until he got the truth out of her.

"Don't lie to me! How many of them did you take?" Harry demanded. Hermione glanced at him for one second before trying to squirm her way out of his grip.

"Leave me alone!" She whimpered in the end, forcefully slapping his hand away from her arm. For someone who was drugged, she had a lot of strength. "I- I took no pills!" She added, looking at him with a horrified face. And then, as if Harry had pressed a button to switch her off, Hermione's face relaxed and her body fell on the mattress.

"Hermione! Are you alright?" Harry immediately asked, leaning over to see her face. Her eyes were open but opaque, and her breathing was slowly slowing down. That calmness was frankly worrying. Hermione closed her eyes, trying to stop the room from spinning around her... She just wanted to forget everything and sleep... Why was Harry making this so hard for her? "Please, love... How many pills did you take?" Harry's gentle voice reached her ears. Hermione closed her eyes tightly; he again reminded her of how Sirius spoke... If she told him the truth, would he leave her alone?

But did Hermione want to be left alone? Did she really want to shut the world out, as she had been doing these past months? Did she want to keep drowning in the pit she had fallen into?

_No..._ A small voice inside her head said. _Don't slap that helping hand away... Ask for help; you're killing yourself this way..._

But Hermione couldn't. She couldn't let him know. She was strong; she could do this alone. Hermione covered her ears and hoarsely breathed in. _You can't deal with this on your own anymore. You know this, Hermione... _

"Stop," she croaked. Harry leaned in closer.

"What?" He asked. Hermione's body began trembling uncontrollably as tears found the way into her eyes. Why? Why couldn't she forget? The pills were supposed to help her! What happened to being so detached from the world that nothing could hurt her? _Leave me alone, Harry, leave me alone; you cannot help me now..._ She opened her mouth and a strangled sob came out. The voices in her head wouldn't stop screaming now; she had allowed them to speak, and now she couldn't stop them... "No, Hermione, please don't cry," Harry pleaded, trying to comfort her. This was breaking his heart.

What had happened to the old Hermione? What had happened to the lovely bookworm that scolded him because he played too much Quidditch? What could Harry do to help her? Oh, if he only knew what was wrong with her. What could be so terrible that she didn't want to tell him?

Hermione shook her head and tried to breathe, looking around her for some source of comfort. But the sheets that had before held a sort of consolation were now cold; the peace she had found when she first entered the room was gone now: gone because all pretences had fallen around her...

She wouldn't let that happen. She wouldn't let reality get to what had been the small piece of solace she had been able to find during the past two years. And yet she couldn't stop crying, now that she had fallen face first into her reality and what was left of her world. Hermione was nothing but a desperate girl who had to cling to a ghost to continue living...

If you could call this living.

Hermione sobbed and swiftly moved away from Harry, getting off the bed and falling to the floor. Harry widened his eyes and rushed to her side. "No!" Hermione exclaimed with fear in her eyes, backing away from him. "You ruined everything!" She cried, covering her face and rocking back and forth. Harry frowned and widened his eyes; he felt between very hurt, and very confused.

"What?" He asked, puzzled. Hermione glared at him.

"You- You ruined-" Her breathing was constricted because of the sobs she was trying to fight. In her altered state, she had to narrow her eyes to stop the walls from closing around her and for Harry to not look distorted. The Slytherin part of Harry's brain suddenly discovered that this was a good time to squeeze what was wrong with her.

"What did I ruin, Hermione?" He gently asked, nearing her. Hermione covered her ears again and quickly began shaking her head, as if trying to resist great temptation. He tried to ignore the guilt bubbling in the pit of his stomach; he was doing this for Hermione's own good, but he felt as if he was getting her drunk so he could shag her. "Please, Herm... Tell me... What did I ruin?" He pressed. Hermione's lips were tight and tense; her eyes were firmly closed.

Hermione tried to play deaf to his plea. For some reason she found herself confused. What she was doing there? Why was she crying? Her head was spinning. Was this because of the meds she had taken? She opened her eyes and her dizziness grew stronger... "If- If I had... One more _zay_..." she managed to say. Harry listened attentively. "If I could turn back- Harry..." she croaked.

"Yes?" But Hermione didn't answer. She seemed to struggle with herself for a few seconds and then threw herself in his arms with such force that he almost fell backwards. Shocked, Harry hugged her back as Hermione sobbed in his chest.

"I'm so sorry, Harry," she told his chest, still with a death like grip on him. "I shouldn't... Have _zone_ what I _zid_-" Harry could barely understand her; slurring and a runny nose did not mix. What was she talking about? Taking the medicine, returning to Sirius's room, or something else?

"What did you, Herm?" He asked her, patting her back. Hermione was shaking again, and did not speak. Harry sighed and kissed her head; it was enough pressure for one night. "I'll take you back to your room, okay?" He added. This room gave him the creeps.

"Let me _ztay_," Hermione begged, looking up at him with such sadness that Harry actually considered it.

"No," he said in the end. "It'll do you no good, Hermione. C'mon," he said, helping her stand up. Hermione tried to walk but just as she fell forwards Harry caught her. "I'll carry you..." He trailed off. Hermione didn't complain. As Harry positioned her in his arms, he felt as if he was carrying a corpse.

The thought of it disturbed him deeply. He went out of Sirius's room and closed the door with his foot, shivering.

"Harry, _zell_ the walls to stop moving," Hermione moaned as he started walking. Alarmed, Harry speeded up to his room, which was nearer than hers, and carefully laid her on his bed. Hermione's body moved as if it was made of jelly; her eyes were unfocused. "_Ztay_ with me, Harry," Hermione suddenly said, patting the spot next to her on his bed. "You were his godson..." She trailed off.

-+-

A/N: Ah! _His_ godson? What? How will Harry react? I have no idea. I'll have to start writing the chapter. I do hope that _this_ chapter is worth reading; I got a major block at the middle of it. Now you have to review If I don't update till next week, have a very merry Christmas! Adieu!


	8. An unexpected question

An unexpected question

A/N: Well, here it is... The last chapter I'll post until 2007. As usual, I hope you like it.

Disclaimer: No... Don't own a thing... Save for the plot. Which I dearly hope it's good.

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His eyes widened and his throat suddenly felt very dry. "What?" he croaked. Hermione closed her eyes and didn't say anything more; her hand was still on the spot next to her. She had already done that two times now... Was it on purpose or did the medicine really wore her down? "You were his godson?" Harry repeated in a whisper. What was that about? It involved Sirius, obviously, but... Had he really meant so much to Hermione?

Harry ran his fingers through his hair and sighed with frustration. Maybe she was just delirious. He racked his brains as he remembered their fifth year; trying to remember if anything relevant had happened, but nothing came to his mind. Neither Sirius nor Hermione had acted out of normal... Heck, Hermione often bashed Sirius because she thought he confused Harry with James. _"C'mon, Harry, think..."_ he willed himself, staring at Hermione's sleeping form.

Certain questions started popping into his mind. How did she know which room was Sirius's? Why had she been so keen on sleeping there, or taking his pillow? And what about wanting to find out how he had died? Harry's brow furrowed as a small, weak and far fetched answer started forming in his head. Harry's cheeks turned red with the mere thought of it.

"_Merlin's beard, no. She was fifteen. Sirius wasn't a pervert. Jesus, Harry. You're demented."_

Harry shook his head and screwed his face up in disgust. This was Hermione he was thinking about. But what if Sirius had forced her to do... do... _something_? Harry's hands turned into fists and again he shook his head. He knew his godfather. He wouldn't have done that. Never. And this new found attraction Harry felt towards Hermione wasn't helping, either. Just the thought of someone touching Hermione or making her suffer was enough to set him on a killing spree.

As Hermione rolled around to her side and faced the wall, Harry vowed to find out what was wrong with her, even if it killed him; even if she wanted to be helped or not.

And he was going to make damn sure that she wouldn't enter Sirius's bedroom anymore.

-+-

Hermione again looked and acted like a different person. As she and Harry silently went up towards the second floor of the Ministry, Harry kept stealing glances at her. The rings under her eyes could be seen, even though she had applied make up on them; and she had this defeated air around her. Harry hadn't dared to bring the subject of her medicine that morning, as she prepared to go to work. It was as if she had forgotten what had happened last night... When Hermione woke up, startled, she asked if she had caused too much trouble for Harry, who immediately told her that it was alright.

She had not spoken another word; and it didn't look as if she was going to say something soon. As they rattled upwards in silence, Harry saw Hermione staring at the button numbered nine. She wasn't blinking, and her lips were tense. What could she be thinking about right now?

Ah, well. If Harry had known about all the reasons, and all the memories that answered the "why's" in his head, then even wondering what she was thinking about would have been considered stupid. Hermione, though, wasn't thinking. Her mind was actually blank. She only had eyes for that number nine; the number that represented Sirius and his premature death. What could have been? What could have been of them, had he survived? Maybe Sirius would've waited until she was of age. Harry would still have a godfather...

After Harry had told her that Sirius had passed away, she had never cried again. Until yesterday, that was. Hermione had forgotten what it was like to cry... She hated it; she hated the fact that Harry had seen such a vulnerable side of her; she hated how her precious structures had become nothing but faint whispers in the dark, torturing her with promises that she no longer needed.

The elevator finally stopped and the doors opened, breaking her depressing line of thought. She breathed in deeply and stepped out of it; she nodded Harry goodbye and walked towards what was her new office- she didn't even pay attention to Ron as she walked by. Hermione sighed and sat down on the chair in the empty cubicle, proceeding to cover her face with her hands.

She had had such a strange dream last night... She could only recall a part of it, though...

_Hermione found herself in the Forbidden Forest, narrowing her eyes, as if looking for something. There was no moon or any kind of light whatsoever... Something silvery ran through some nearby trees and her eyes widened. Quickly she went over to the source of light and saw how it escaped her reach. "Wait!" Hermione exclaimed, starting to run after the silvery shape. Was it a Patronus? A unicorn? The shape started gaining speed and so did she. The branches and the tree trunks made it difficult for her to follow the light, but she managed to jump and dodge everything that came in her way. _

_She wanted to reach the light; to touch it- She didn't know why, but she had to, or all would be lost in the darkness of that forest. She gained on the shape, panting and breathing heavily, but just as her fingertips were about to touch it, she tripped and hit the ground._

_The scenery changed. The dark corridor... The dark corridor that lead to the room with the doors. Inside of one of those doors was the courtroom with the veil in it. Hermione had to get to that room, somehow. It wasn't about saving Sirius, no... He was already dead. It was something else. Hermione started crying as she ran through the corridor. She heard voices behind her... Ron and Ginny telling her to stop... Harry was telling her that she shouldn't do it... _

_Ah, but Hermione didn't care. She kicked the black door open and it shut behind her, engulfing the voices. Everything was blurry... As if she was looking at the room with the doors underwater... A door in front of her opened and she went through it; tears ran down her throat. The veil swung excitedly when she came in. She was going down the stairs..._

"Hermione," a voice said. Hermione sharply looked up and saw Luna gazing at her with that dreamy smile of hers.

"Oh, hi, Luna," Hermione said before cleaning her throat. "What brings you here?" Luna sat down in front of her.

"Ronald told me you were here," she answered lazily. "Are you alright?" She wanted to know. Hermione raised her eyebrows and tried to smile.

"Yes, great, thanks. And you?"

"Oh, fantastic... Ronald told me that you got quite upset yesterday, when you saw Remus..." Luna began. Hermione gulped, preparing herself to answer whatever questions Luna had in her mind. Honestly, she preferred when Luna talked about nargles. "Harry looked quite upset..." Luna trailed off.

"Did he really?" Hermione nervously asked. Luna nodded, smiling.

"I just wanted you to know, Hermione... That if you ever feel like talking..." Luna spoke calmly, "Feel free to ask me," she finished. Hermione swallowed and looked down; how did Luna manage to tell her what everybody told her, and still sound more sincere than any of them? Well, except for Harry, maybe.

"Thank you, Luna. I'll keep it in mind," Hermione said. Luna smiled placidly at her and stood up, apparently about to leave. As she stood in the door of Hermione's office, she turned around.

"Harry likes you, you know," Luna said. Hermione raised her eyebrows.

"Well, yes, I like to think that I'm still one of his best friends," she replied. Luna shook her head.

"For someone as intelligent as you, Hermione, that was an answer _Ronald_ would smirk at." She said, turning around and going out of the office. Hermione was left staring at the now closed door, mulling over what Luna had said. But- But Harry couldn't like her! Not in that way. Hermione didn't want to break his heart... He had offered a home; he had offered her friendship... But she couldn't like him back. Hermione simply couldn't offer him that kind of love.

Oh, sure, she could try to live with him as a couple, but how much time would they last? For how long would Hermione be able to keep up with the pretence? Hell, why was she even considering it? She would never _pretend_ to have feelings for Harry- That would hurt him a thousand times more than anything else she might do. And Hermione reckoned that the man had gone through enough pain in his life.

She wouldn't be considered to be another burden upon his back.

-+-

"You're quiet today, Harry. Is something wrong?" Hermione asked her friend as he made dinner, for Lupin would be coming over. Harry didn't look at her.

"Yes, there's something wrong," he finally answered. Hermione breathed in deeply at this; Luna's words still ringing in her ears.

"Want to talk about it?" She asked tentatively. If something was really going to happen between them, then it was better to bite the sour pill and get it over with. Harry sighed and turned around.

"I'm willing if you're willing." Hermione looked down for a couple of seconds.

"Spill it out, then," she said, bracing herself. Harry went over to the table and sat in front of her, boring his eyes into hers.

"What went on between you and Sirius, Hermione?"

-+-

A/N: DUN DUN DUNNNN... What will Hermione answer? Again, I have no idea. Though I already have the ending planned, I don't really know when I'll get there. I mean: the story does not have a definite road... Maybe there are three chapters till the end; maybe I'll end up coughing ten more. Who knows? Anyway- Short chapter, I know. Hope you like it. I don't think I'll be updating until January, and by then I hope to have written a few good chapters for this. I hope you've had a great Christmas and that you'll have a happy New Year.

Don't forget to review! Bye!


	9. Reality Bites

Reality bites

A/N: I wrote this chapter on an inspirational rush, and I hope it's good. Dare I say we are close to reaching the climax of the story? Beats me, but probably, yes. I really, really hope you enjoy this.

Disclaimer: Just the plot. Unfortunately.

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Hermione only widened her eyes and felt how her jaw clenched; her stomach doing a somersault. _"Don't look too surprised. Don't look shocked or guilty."_ Her mind ordered her; it was just impossible. Could anyone blame her? Harry frowned but didn't say anything; patiently waiting for her answer.

Oh, what _should_ she answer? The truth? No, no, no. If Harry _did_ like her, as Luna had said, Hermione didn't even want to imagine how he would react. Oh sure, she was technically sixteen when she was with Sirius, but she saw no difference. But besides the age gap, Sirius was his godfather. Hermione imagined that Harry's anger would result in either the house being set on fire, or herself exploding. _Maybe it won't be so bad. Maybe he can help you, Hermione... Yeh, he'll help me by kicking me out of his house. _

Tears threatened to blur her eyes as Hermione looked at the table. She was desperate for help, yes, but no one could know. No one could know! No one would be able to help her... Hermione wanted to scream again; scream like she had screamed yesterday- she wanted to break things and tear them apart, shattering them mercilessly; until everything was as broken as her life. Hermione wanted to run and run and never look back; she wanted to sleep forever and never wake up-

But she wouldn't let anyone get a hold of that. She breathed in deeply, closing her eyes, and looked up at her friend. "Harry- Would you mind telling me what is that question about?" She decided to ask him, trying to keep her voice even. Harry straightened up on the chair and ran his fingers through his hair.

"Did something happen between you and him?" Harry re phrased the question. Hermione frowned and sported a scowl.

"What is that supposed to mean, Harry? Goodness, what are you _implying_?" Hermione responded in outraged tones; hoping that the mask wouldn't fail. _You're strong. You can do this._

"It's just- I never knew he meant so much to you; and I thought-"

"Do you realize that you're calling Sirius a paedophile? And calling me a pervert?" Hermione wanted to know. She hated this; she hated lying to Harry; she loathed herself _so **much**_ for making him feel guilty about a truth, a fact. Anger dripped from every pore in her body, but it was directed at herself. Hermione felt so heartless, so dirty; she was a _monster_... Harry looked away, and Hermione didn't miss his shiny eyes.

_Hurt him, Hermione. Hurt him to save him from you. You and your lack of soul._

"I'm- I'm sorry," Harry finally answered in a small voice. Hermione felt that stupid stinging sensation in her eyes again. She wanted to shake Harry by the shoulders and tell him not to believe her anymore; that she was the one at fault, not him; Hermione wanted to tell him to forget that she ever lived, for she could not reach for human affection ever again. She just wanted... wanted to give it all up, once and for all, and forever.

"Don't be. I can understand that my attitude allows people to think such things. It's alright, Harry," Hermione tried; smiling weakly at him. Harry didn't look at her again, and she practically heard her heart breaking.

_Well, the deed is done. He was the last one. Now you're as alone as you wanted to be. You know that this is not right; you don't want to be alone: you're too afraid to let someone know that you can't make it on your own._

Without really thinking, Hermione slammed her forehead against the table, in a feeble attempt to make that voice stop. Just what she needed; she was a schizoid now. Harry glanced at her, wide eyed and startled, but Hermione didn't care. Though her eyes watered and her forehead felt on fire...

The sadness had decently receded.

Hermione stood up and went to look at the world outside through the window; as Harry silently moved to continue to prepare dinner. She recalled what she had said to Harry- Sirius had been a paedophile, then? Her sight blurred at this. She... _She_ had turned him into one... She had never realized this- Never had put down in words. Hermione had turned Sirius into a paedophile. The strength of those words nearly knocked her off her feet.

That only helped to get her even more depressed.

Merlin, what had she done? What had driven her to do the things she had done? When had her life escaped her control? Hermione suddenly felt as if she was going to be sick. She covered her mouth and closed her eyes; praying that Harry hadn't noticed anything. Hermione tried to breathe, and the feeling of sickness intensified. She rested the palm of her hand on the cool glass of the window.

Christmas was around the corner... Hermione suddenly realized that she didn't want to be part of it.

"Hermione? Are you alright?" Harry suddenly asked, trying to catch a glimpse of her face. She looked nearly green.

"I'm going to be sick," she announced with a hoarse voice, turning around and running towards the nearest bathroom. She opened the door and merely had time to turn on the lights before she had to crouch over the toilet to throw up. Hermione heavily sat on the cool tiles, shaking and crying in disgust, as the waves of nausea washed over her. As she breathed deeply she looked at the bathroom she found herself in.

_-Flashback-_

"_We'll get- we'll get caught," she breathed, trying not to pay attention to what his lips were doing to the skin under her earlobe. She'd never be able to resist his soft kisses. _

"_Don't worry about that now," he whispered, leaving a trail of wet kisses down to her neck, nibbling on it. She let out a low whimper, tilting her head back to allow him more room. _

_Resist? Who talked about resisting? Let everyone else be damned. _

_Was it just her or someone had turned on a heater inside that tight bathroom? Merlin. Her eyes closed as she felt his hands roam around her back and come to rest on her waist, pulling her closer to his own, at the same time pressing her against the wall, just nibbling on her neck mercilessly._

_Oh, good gracious._

_She let out a low moan and grabbed his cheeks, kissing him roughly and pushing him against the other wall, rubbing her whole body against his, teasing. He let out a husky growl and roughly slammed _her_ against the opposite wall; grabbing her wrists and placing them next to her head, holding them secure with his hands, and hotly began kissing her chest. _

_Lord, take me now._

_Trying very hard not to think about what would happen if someone happened to walk in, let alone hear something; she just decided to let go- something she didn't do very often. Maybe this was such a turn on because the danger of being found out existed; it made it all the more mysterious and dangerous... This truth just made the encounter even more passionate and desperate, though, so it wasn't as half as bad as everyone would suppose it was._

_Sirius suddenly parted from her chest and breathed in deeply, concern and guilty swiftly possessing his eyes. "We have to be careful," he lisped. Hermione nodded without a word; caressing his cheek. They both knew what was in store for them if anyone were to find out. "People wouldn't understand."_

_-End flashback-_

Hermione threw up again. She just felt so dirty, contaminated; so guilty. It was true that Sirius and her had never got really intimate (meaning he hadn't had sex with her), but she still felt as she had done something terrible. She was the one that caused all of it; it had been her choice- Oh, what had she done; what had she done? She remembered how happy she had been when she was fifteen, and now saw what life had made of her: she was reduced to someone that resorted to pills to escape from reality, which hurt like the deepest of wounds; someone who was trying to push the world aside; a girl throwing up and sobbing in a small, old bathroom, completely alone.

Hermione hit the toilet seat with her fist and shook her head. She'd have to pretend. Pretend that everything was okay. But not for her sake- for everybody else's sakes. Maybe, it would help her too. Maybe...

"Hermione, are you alright? Do you need anything?" Harry asked her, peeking through the crack of the door. Concern was itched all over his face. Hermione wished that he would forget about her soon- she was only going to hurt him.

"A glass of water wouldn't hurt," she rasped, shivering. Harry nodded and seconds after he was there, holding the glass. Hermione drank it in one huge gulp and shakily stood up from the bathroom floor; wiping her mouth with her sleeve and flushing the toilet. "Thank you, Harry," she added. Harry agreed with his head.

"Are you sure you're okay?" He asked. Hermione sighed and forced a smile. _He's still my friend, he still likes me- he shouldn't. He shouldn't..._

"Yeah. I suppose I ate something that did me no good," she invented, quickly going out of the bathroom. Just as Harry was about to speak, a knock was heard, coming from the front door. "Why, those must be Lupin and Tonks! I'll go and greet them," Hermione added in an overly cheery manner; walking towards the front door. Harry stared at her go and his brow furrowed sadly.

_Where are you, Hermione? What's wrong with you? Why won't you let me help you...?_

-+-

A/N: Well, here it is. I know I said that maybe I wouldn't update until January, but I just couldn't help myself. I just love this story too much. Now it's taking a nice shape, and I can definitely say that there aren't too many chapters left until the end.

I hope that you liked this chapter. As usual, I also hope that you'll review and let me know. Bye!


	10. Nobody's Home

Nobody's Home

A/N: Well! I'm back, and very happy to be! I hope you won't get disappointed by this chapter... I happen to like it very much. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter, Harry and Hermione would be together. Are they together? No. So, I don't own them.

"_Her feelings she hides,  
Her dreams she can't find,  
She's losing her mind,  
She's fallen behind,  
She can't find her place,  
She's losing her faith,  
She's fallen from grace,  
She's all over the place..."_

"_**Nobody's Home"- Avril Lavigne.**_

_-+-_

"_Are you happy?"_

"_What do you mean?"_

"_Happy. That everyone's here... That Harry is with you..."_

"_And, I might add, that we're acting like a couple of fifth graders on a break, in Myrtle's bathroom?"_

"_Hey, I _am_ a fifth grader."_

"_No pun intended."_

"_Oh, shut up," Hermione said with a smile, softly hitting him on the shoulder. Sirius grinned as he curled his index finger around a strand of her hair._

"_Really, love. You _do_ seem older to me," he told her, kissing her softly to emphasize his point. Hermione blushed and bit her lower lip, rearranging herself on his lap. Sirius began kissing her cheek and jaw line, making Hermione giggle and wonder if she would ever be as happy as she had been during the past week. Today, they had chosen the drawing room for some "quality time". It had been normal enough: Hermione had said she wanted to decorate the room; half an hour later Sirius had "stumbled in on her" and had decided to help her out. That was the safe, official version._

_And the boring one as well, if Hermione was so bold to add._

_Hermione laughed as Sirius, wanting to change his position on the couch to be more comfortable, sat over some garlands and a couple of Christmas bulbs, crushing them. He cursed under his breath and she promptly 'hit' him again because of language. Sirius was, in some ways, like a big child who refused to grow up... He lifted Hermione in his arms (turning her into a squirmy mob of nothing) and carefully let her sit on the desk in front of the abovementioned couch, shaking some pieces of bulbs off his arse. Hermione crossed her ankles and smiled lovingly at Sirius. She couldn't worry about anything: not school, O.W.L.'s, Umbridge or even Voldemort- There was only Sirius and her; safe in that drawing room. _

"_Mistletoe," Sirius voice broke her reverie; making her blink and look up: he was holding the plant with his hand. Hermione glanced back at him and grinned as she chuckled, leaning in to kiss him._

_Who would've known? Sirius Black even had a 'aw, how sweet' side._

_It must have been the Christmas spirit what made her put her arms around his neck and shower his face in kisses. Yes... Now, on the day before Christmas, Hermione wished that she could stay in Grimmauld Place forever._

_-End Flashback-_

Almost three years later from that moment, Hermione wasn't so sure about Grimmauld Place. Oh, how happy she had been when she was young. Sure, she was technically nineteen, but she felt as if she was a hundred years old. It was safe to say that Sirius had been her first boyfriend. So... even if she had been so deliriously blissful with him, had it all been wrong? Logically, yes. But Hermione wanted to forget about logic and even the law. Screw it all. She had been happy, Sirius had been happy... Was that a crime? Of course not.

Right?

Well, that didn't help her feel better, no matter how hard she tried. Hermione hated this time of the year and what it represented to her; she hated how everyone was cheerful and she was miserable: she was so envious of all of them.

"Anyone in there?" Hermione saw a hand in front of her eyes and she blinked.

"Sorry..." she trailed off. Ginny looked worriedly at her and sighed. It was December 24th and, for the first time in years, Harry had suggested that Christmas dinner should be held in Grimmauld Place. Needless to say, Hermione wasn't very excited about it. In fact, she had even planned to go away for Christmas- but, as her parents had been murdered and she was an only child, she had had nowhere to go. Stupid Christmas.

"I have to tell you something," Ginny stated. Hermione raised her eyebrows at how nervous her friend suddenly seemed, and nodded. "I- Well, I wanted to tell everyone later today, on dinner, but considering what the 'surprise' is... I prefer to have someone to talk to if it goes... bad," Ginny continued. Hermione raised her right eyebrow at this, wondering what could be so terrible. Goodness, they had seen it all already...

"Shoot," Hermione replied, crossing her arms over the table. Ginny breathed in deeply and stared at the table, then at Hermione's arms.

"I'm engaged to Draco," Ginny confessed, gazing up at her defiantly. Hermione's eyes widened and she didn't say anything at first, too shocked to react. Malfoy had changed over the War (they had all done so), yes, but that didn't make Hermione forget about the ferret having made her life seem like hell more than once.

"Ron's going to kill you," Hermione finally broke the silence that had fallen over them.

"And you're not?" Ginny asked hopefully. Hermione stared at her and wondered... If Ginny was about to marry a proclaimed enemy... Was it possible that she... Maybe... Could understand what Hermione had gone through with Sirius? If Ginny could have forgiveness, couldn't Hermione be forgiven too? _No_, the answer immediately came. _This is different. Malfoy is one year older than Ginny. He isn't anyone's godfather..._ Hermione closed her eyes for a moment and covered her face with her hands; all of a sudden wanting to cry. "Hey, are you alright?" Hermione felt Ginny's hand over her arm and quickly agreed with her head, breathing in deeply and forcing a weak smile.

"No, I'm not going to kill you," Hermione finally said, emerging from her hands. "Even though I'm shocked... I happen to know how people who are in prejudiced couples feel," she confessed. Ginny tilted her head sideways, surprised.

"How come?" She wanted to know. Hermione looked down and away, biting her lower lip in a vain attempt to stop it from trembling. _Tell her, tell her; she might help... And even if she doesn't, you at least told someone about it..._

"I just know." Hermione replied, perfectly aware that the chance to relieve her pain had come and gone forever. "So... How long have you been dating Draco?" she questioned; moving the conversation away from that subject. Ginny, though still visibly curious, agreed to the change in the conversation.

"About two years," she responded. "We never said anything because of all the dangers it could bring, to Draco and I, you know..."

"Yes, Ginny... I know."

-+-

Everyone was here. The Weasley family, Lupin and Tonks, Fleur, Luna... Hermione knew she was being stupid, but she couldn't help to imagining that any second now Sirius would just walk through the kitchen door and sit down next to Harry and Lupin, as he always did. It hurt to know that he'd never do that again. Children were running around everywhere; whether it was just to ask their parents if they could open the presents or something as simple as playing hide and seek in uncle Harry's "big house".

As Hermione looked around her and stole a glance at the kitchen door (_can you get a grip? He's dead)_, she wondered where Ginny was. Would she bring Draco with her? Hermione couldn't get the conversation they had had out of her head. What if Ginny actually understood her? But how would Ginny look at her after that? Would she still be her friend? It was dangerous... Hermione didn't want to lose that friendship. No, she wouldn't tell a soul. She'd try to go one alone.

After all... Wasn't she better off on her own?

Hermione stood up from the table and rubbed her eyes. She wanted to get out of there. Now.

"Hermione, dear, dinner will be ready soon," Molly told her. "Are you alright? You look a bit peaky," she added. Hermione smiled weakly and shook her head.

"Not to worry, Molly. I just... I'll be back soon," she told her, turning around and leaving the dining room. She caught sight of the Christmas tree that proudly stood in a corner and her lower lip started trembling again. Hermione grabbed her cloak and quickly fastened it around her shoulders; striding over the front door and stepping outside. The freezing breeze hit her face and she shivered under the falling snow; she closed the door and she was free. The street was empty and silent. The houses in the neighborhood were all alight... Hermione walked towards the street and sat down on the curb, hugging herself; the cold was unbelievable.

_-Flashback-_

"_Wow, Hermione... You look... Different," Ron told her, ogling at her. Hermione blushed at the comment, nervously touching her curly hair. For the first time since fourth year she was wearing make up, and she had spent hours curling her hair just right. She wanted to look pretty for the Christmas Eve dinner, and for Sirius. It beat her why, though. Harry didn't say anything and merely nodded, but his eyes were almost drilling holes on her face._

"_Thanks, Ron," Hermione quietly replied. She was not used to getting those kinds of looks from the opposite sex, to be honest... She was wearing jeans and a turtleneck sweater her mother had gotten her before September. The Golden Trio walked towards the dining room and Hermione sat down next to Ron, biting her lip, as Harry sat on Ron's other side. Molly and Tonks also complimented her new look; dinner was on the table and Sirius still hadn't appeared. _

"_Remus, where's Sirius?" Tonks asked. Lupin shrugged._

"_I'll look for him," he retorted. Just as he was standing up, the kitchen door opened and Hermione recognized Sirius's hand; she began biting her lower lip again. As Sirius emerged from the shadows, she wasn't the only one who gasped. He had shaved and had had a hair cut (did he do it himself?); he looked years younger. He was dressed casually enough, but Hermione thought he looked simply breath taking. Sirius's steps faltered and his eyes swept over the guests to fall on Hermione. A wide smile adorned his face, and Hermione smiled back at him. _

"_Why Sirius, don't you look handsome!" Molly said, and the bond was broken. Sirius turned to look at her with a half smile._

"_I try," he replied. _

"_Well, I'm glad to see that you have freshened up," Molly told him. "Sit down; dinner's here," she added. Hermione tried to contain her excitement as Sirius had to sit down next to her; his cologne reaching her nostrils and nearly making her swoon. His proximity was intoxicating; Hermione had to physically restrain her arms as to not touch him in anyway. _

_As dinner went on, Hermione was going bonkers. It was torture to have him so near, looking so damn good, and not being able to do anything! Hermione meaningfully looked at him as she 'reached out for the pumpkin juice' and Sirius chuckled. Seconds after, Hermione felt his leg over hers, and she couldn't help but to giggle. She responded by placing her hand over his leg, avoiding to look at him. _

"_You look beautiful, sweet," Sirius whispered in her ear. Hermione shivered when she felt his breath on her earlobe, with a grin so wide that it hurt. _

"_Likewise," she whispered back, her face inches from his. She knew she was being careless, but, frankly... She couldn't care less. Sirius bored his eyes into hers and Hermione had the weird impression that the temperature in the room had gone up three degrees._

_Unfortunately, as they had been so careless, someone else had noticed their unusual interaction._

_-End flashback-_

Hermione sniffed and she wiped her nose with her sleeve; beginning to shiver but not yet wanting to return. Her breath was becoming wisps of vapor in front of her eyes; and her eyes were glassy as she glanced back at Grimmauld Place. Distantly, she could hear the voices, the cheerful voices.

No one was looking for her.

As her eyes went back to the frozen street, she hugged herself tighter. She knew it was selfish, but... Why wasn't anyone looking for her? Was it so blatantly obvious that they hadn't noticed she was missing? Hermione hugged her knees and breathed in hoarsely. Sirius had thought she had looked beautiful on this same night, two years ago.

But now Sirius was dead, and she was alive... In a manner of saying.

The snow still fell, the breeze still blew, and the voices were still cheerful and free of any worries. The lights in the houses were still on; and the world kept turning. And one by one, timidly, slowly, tears began to fall from Hermione's eyes as she shivered, alone, in that desolated street. She crouched over herself, trying to keep warm, and rubbed her hands together. Hermione was ashamed to admit that she was hoping that someone would come to her and talk to her; someone who wanted to be with her.

No one was coming...

"_She wants to go home, but nobody's home,_" a small, broken voice began singing, and Hermione realized it was her own. "_That's where she lies, broken inside... With no place to go, no place to go..._" She must look pathetic, crying on that curb... "_To dry her eyes, broken inside..._" her voice died down and she sobbed silently.

Why did she have to live through this? Why did she have to stand it? Why did she have to cry under the falling snow? Why wasn't anyone coming...? Didn't they care? Hadn't they noticed that she was missing?

Of course not. Who would notice a living corpse?

Hermione looked up the cloudy sky with blurry eyes and tried to calm down; trying to find some comfort in the dead memories that seemed to haunt her. _"You look beautiful, sweet."_ She could almost hear him again, sitting next to her... But there was nothing there.

Hermione closed her eyes tightly and hit the frosty curb. "I miss you," she whispered. "I miss you..." Her hand opened and as she touched the snow, she knew it was enough. "I'm coming with you, Sirius," she whispered to the snow. "I've had enough."

-+-

A/N: Well, there you have it. I am very happy to say that I stumbled across a good plot twist and I can't wait to get to it. I'm so excited! I hope that you liked this chapter; and as usual, I hope you review. Please? Until next chapter!


	11. The Gift

The Gift

A/N: First of all, I can't tell you how moved and happy I am that you all like this story so much! Thank you for those wonderful reviews... You guys are the best! Without further ado... Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Do I even need to say it at this point? Only the plot is mine.

"_Here I stand with head in hand,  
Turn my face to the wall.  
If he's gone I can't go on,  
Feeling two foot small.  
_

_Ev'rywhere people stare,  
Each and ev'ry day.  
I can see them laugh at me,  
And I hear them say:  
'Hey, you've got hide your love away!'"_

"_**You've got to hide your love away"- The Beatles.**_

-+-

It didn't come as a shock that Ginny's "surprise" made quite a few people to raise their eyebrows and spit whatever they were drinking. In fact, Ron's screams could have made the foundations of Grimmauld Place to shake.

After sitting on the curb for nearly two hours, Hermione had decided to return to the house. Her face was cold, her eyes were swollen, and she shivered for nearly half an hour, even inside, but that was not the worse. Hermione's soul was wounded. Wounded and angry. Not surprisingly, no one had noticed she hadn't returned save for Harry. And even him! He had thought she was in her room, and had not wanted to disturb her.

Little did he know that Hermione would have given the world for being disturbed; just to see if anyone cared enough to check if she hadn't jumped through a window. But no. Christmas dinner was more important, wasn't it? Hermione could hardly blame them, though. She _did_ realize that her attitudes pointed to "don't bother me or I'll hex you". Oh, if they could only know.

Ginny had arrived a few minutes after the opening of presents; maybe because she thought they'd be happier? Well, she entered the living room holding the pale hand of whom other but Draco Malfoy.

Hermione thought she could've heard a pin drop.

Draco stared at all of them longingly, his lips tense, but didn't utter a word. Then Ginny had opened her mouth and had dropped the bomb.

All in all, no one was killed. Ginny proudly announced that the wedding date was placed for October 15th of the upcoming year; that Hermione was the maid of honor, and that from this point on, Draco would be joining them in the festivities. And that if someone didn't like it, then though luck.

Hermione, sitting on a couch near the shadows, suddenly felt admiration towards her friend. She admired how bold Ginny was; how proud she sounded and looked- Hermione wished that she had been as strong as her redheaded friend. Lowering her eyes away from Ron's blistering face, Hermione stared down at the presents lying on her lap.

Ron had given her books, Harry a perfume, Ginny a couple of earrings... But Tonks and Lupin had given her something different. A beautifully wrapped, and fairly small, package, which looked pretty tattered and old. There was nothing written on it. Hermione wondered what this was? It wasn't heavy, but it wasn't light either. Someone sat next to her and Hermione looked up to see Tonks there, smiling at her.

"Lupin has had that gift in his possession for two years. When he got it, you lot had already gone back to Hogwarts," She explained. Hermione widened her eyes and a knot formed on her throat. Could that mean... That this gift was from...? Hermione gazed at Tonks with the question written in her eyes and the Auror nodded gravely; Hermione's breathing hitched as she looked at the package again. But... But... Wait. Did Tonks _know_?! What did she know?! Hermione felt as if she was a lioness wanting to kill a prey. Did Tonks- How- How did she- That was none of her business! But how could Hermione ask her anything without being too obvious? This was outrageous! How did Lupin even _dare_?!

-_Flashback-_

_When Hermione entered his room, he seemed unusually quiet and tense. Sirius was sitting on the bed's edge, staring at Hermione's Christmas present: a copy of the picture of Harry's parents wedding and a short letter she had written. Blushing profusely she stepped closer to him. What if he hadn't liked the picture? If he was angry or sad? Sirius only acknowledged Hermione when she sat down next to him. He avoided her gaze and placed the picture and the letter on his bedside table; proceeding to rub his eyes. Hermione gulped at this, but didn't say anything. _

"_What's wrong?" she asked in a small voice. He didn't reply at first, and continued staring at the air. "Sirius?" _

"_Lupin suspects something." Just like that, deadpan. Hermione gasped at this; an invisible hand squeezed her lungs and heart at the revelation. Fear swept through her. His voice sounded tired and worried- heavy. Hermione opened her mouth to speak, but Sirius cut her off. "He saw us yesterday, at dinner." Hermione looked down and away; the invisible hand was now squeezing her throat. Why had they been so careless? A silence lingered in the air. "I told him that he was mental, of course," Sirius continued with a gruff voice. Hermione didn't even nod. This could only mean one thing: if Sirius wanted to break up, then he better got over it before she started crying. _

"_What... What do you want to do?" Hermione finally asked in a strangled voice. Sirius sighed, and her worst fears were now confirmed. _

"_What do _you_ want to do?" Sirius asked in return, finally looking at her. His eyes were filled with sadness. _

"_I- I don't want... I mean..." Hermione was having a hard time putting the words together. How to explain? How could she tell him that she'd rather die than to break things off? _

"_No... Me neither." Came the surprising response. Hermione looked up at him with shock, not daring to let her hopes go up. "You mean a lot to me, Hermione," Sirius added softly. She bit her lower lip and finally managed a shaky smile._

"_I'll promise I'll be more careful," she said, hugging him. She still felt slightly dizzy with the mere thought of having to leave Sirius. He hugged her back and kissed her hair._

"_I promise, too," he said barely above a whisper. _

_- End flashback-_

Hermione swallowed and for a couple of seconds closed her eyes, still tightly holding the package. Had Lupin actually told Tonks? But Lupin didn't know much, didn't he? They _had_ been more careful after that episode. Hermione opened her eyes and nodded at Tonks, gathering the presents in her hands and standing up from the couch. Draco and Ginny were talking with Molly and Arthur, as Harry smiled at Hermione's present (a real snitch) and Luna tried to distract a fuming Ron from her sister. Lupin was looking at her... Hermione gazed at him, her eyes dark, hiding; and then turned around and left the living room without further ado.

Slowly she went up the dark staircase and into her room, closing the door after her. She left all the gifts on her desk save for Sirius's present. Hermione sat down on her bed and breathed in deeply before carefully ripping the wrapping paper to reveal a simple black, velvety box. As she lifted it, a paper fell to the floor. Hermione frantically reached for it and opened it quickly.

_Hermione: This was given to me by Lily and James, in futile hope that if I ever managed to have a steady girlfriend or got married, I'd give it to her. Since your gifts held so much meaning to me, I tried to do the same with yours. I was planning to buy you something myself, like I did with Harry's firebolt, but I wanted you to have this. _

_I consider you to be smart enough to know what meaning it brings._

_Sirius_

Hermione's eyes brimmed with tears as she re read the small note, written in a now yellowish parchment. She left the note aside and shakily grabbed the box, placing it on her lap. Trying to clear her view she blinked, opening the box to find an exquisite silver bracelet, adorned with petite diamonds that shimmered with the light. "Oh, Sirius," Hermione breathed, lifting the bracelet and placing it over her heart. She was sure that if she now gathered her tears in a glass, and then used that liquid to water a plant, the flowers would wilt and die... Just like she had done.

A minute later she had it placed on her wrist; clutching the note Sirius had written. Why had Lupin kept it this long? This was hers, wasn't it? What right did Lupin have to keep it? Hermione glared at her bedroom door, half expecting Lupin to burst in so she could slap him. Her sudden anger at Lupin became one with the disappointment and sadness that no one had wanted to look for her when she was outside in the street; but it all quickly faded.

It didn't matter now. Hermione only knew that she'd be wearing this until the day she died... She smiled at the bracelet, comforted by the fact that that very day wasn't far away.

-+-

A/N: Short chapter, I know. I really can't wait to begin to write what I have in mind! Ah! In fact, I think I'll begin now. Hope you liked this chapter. And I also hope you don't forget to review and let me know what you thought of it. Bye!


	12. Farewells are never pleasant

Farewells are never pleasant

A/N: Once more, thank you for those awesome reviews. They just make me feel all fuzzy inside! You guys make my day. I really love this story, and I'm very happy that you people like it. Not much left to say... On with the chapter!

Disclaimer: I just don't own them, no matter how hard I try.

"_This place is so empty  
My thoughts are so tempting  
I don't know how it got so bad  
Sometimes it's so crazy  
That nothing can save me  
But it's the only thing that I have."_

"_**Pieces"- Sum 41.**_

-+-

January came and passed by without much going on.

Since Christmas, Harry noted that Hermione seemed a little bit distant with them, hostile even; but on the other hand, she sometimes looked excited... As if an important day was coming. What day could it be? Maybe St. Valentine's Day? There were times when she worked and kept up with the world- There were others when she would lay on the couch for hours, physically telling the world to get lost. She always wore a silver bracelet that "Tonks had given to her on Christmas" now. Harry didn't know why, but that bracelet made him feel uneasy.

In fact, Hermione thought she had done a wonderful job of masking her feelings. It was February now; she had let a month pass since she had made her decision to take her life. Let everyone think that she was okay, that she didn't need any help. In all honesty, she didn't need anyone to tell her that she should move on because Sirius was dead; Hermione didn't need to hear them telling her that her appearance was somewhat scary... She knew. She didn't need a reminder, thank you.

And indeed, her appearance made heads turn... Pity it wasn't for the right reasons. Hermione was thinner than ever before, and her ever pale skin brought out the rings under her eyes. She rarely ate and had given up on the thought of sleeping more than an hour per night, two if she was lucky. In those long hours of insomnia, Hermione had also taken up on planning her own end. It sounded tacky to kill herself in St. Valentine's Day, which happened to be tomorrow.

Also, in those long nights, when silence choked and trapped her, keeping her company, she would sometimes think about every single person she had met in her life, and about the War. It was pathetically ironic how Hermione had fought over two years against Voldemort and his Death Eaters to avoid getting killed, and now she was about to commit suicide. It was... weird. Sad. She sighed as she stared at the ceiling.

_-Flashback-_

"_You're not taking any more pills, aren't you?" Harry asked her, gazing at her from the edge of Hermione's bed. The owner of the bed avoided to look at him._

"_It's alright, Harry. A doctor gave them to me," Hermione tiredly answered, closing her eyes. They had been talking about Ginny and Draco; why did he have to bring this up?_

"_But why? Why do you need to take them?"_

"_I'm haunted by dreams," Hermione whispered, opening her eyes and looking at the ceiling. "Horrible dreams... All the time..." her voice broke at that, and she rolled around to face the wall without another word._

_- End flashback-_

Truth to be told, Hermione didn't know why Harry still tried to talk to her and make her laugh. Maybe it was because he knew what it was to feel depressed and isolated; maybe because he genuinely cared for her... Hermione didn't know. She only knew that it was too late for her.

-+-

St. Valentine's Day is a day meant for couples, as the entire world knows. Mushy music, cheesy places like Madame Puddifoot's... A perfect opportunity for public displays of affection, to receive nice, heart warming letters, and to go out with someone to eat loads and loads of chocolate; among other things.

However, and as everything in life, this day tended to bring out the worse and the best of the implications of the day itself. This day is perfect for people in _happy_ relationships. Without someone to share your day with, St. Valentine's day turned out to be the most depressing bloody day of the whole bloody year. The persons who are alone, for one reason or another, are inclined to curse the day to oblivion and are tempted to spit on the faces of every couple they meet, if they felt very bitter.

The latter was the case of Hermione, who was currently sitting on a sofa next to a window. She stared at the world go by with a sadness so vast, and a bitterness so deep, that if she saw one more couple kissing, she'd AK them without second thought. It was Saturday, and thanks Merlin, it was already ten p.m. A few more hours, and the stupid day would end. She was alone in the house- Harry had gone out. Hermione sighed and covered her eyes with her hand. Her mind had a knack for torturing her in the hardest of times, and, goodness, this was no exception.

_-Flashback-_

_In three days, she'd be returning to Hogwarts... Away from Sirius. Needless to say, she wasn't pleased. Especially because lately, as the Christmas break ended, things had not been going as smoothly as last week. Maybe it was because of Lupin... That had been a reality check, both for her and Sirius. Plus, he had been moody and mostly bitter; sometimes not even Hermione could pull him out of those mood swings. The worst part was that he actually was making Hermione moody and depressed. The fights about Kreacher were an everyday thing, for example. Hermione was afraid that, once left alone, Sirius would lose all self control and do something stupid. _

_She didn't want to leave him. She just didn't want to go. _

_Hermione had been so scared that day, when they had entered the kitchen and had found Snape and Sirius ready to start a duel, with only Harry to keep them at bay. Snape taunted him too much; he pressed all the right buttons, and threw salt over all the open wounds. Sometimes, she had tried to tell Sirius that he shouldn't let Snape's bitterness to bother him, that Dumbledore had his best interests at heart... Sirius of course told her that she needn't worry._

_In three days, Hermione and Sirius grew distant, but not yet cold. It was if they were both waiting for something. Something neither of them could accept nor even face- And it wasn't the only thing. Hermione often found herself on the verge of tears as she glanced at him, when he talked with Harry, when he smiled at her. It was the strangest feeling of an oncoming doom... Hermione didn't know where it came from, or where did it belong, but maybe because she didn't want to? It was just there, hanging in the stars, waiting to be uncovered with all its might and power. Would Sirius be at her side when it fell? Would he help her when the mystery was unveiled?_

_Would Sirius provide her with his warmness, when the cold dawn broke? _

_-End flashback-_

Hermione cradled her face with her hands, but forbid herself to cry. Enough crying already. Oh, if only she had known; if only she had known what would he happening to Sirius that very same year! Hermione would've done so many things different. That had been the answer to her anxiety to leave him alone, the feeling of the oncoming doom- Hermione had somehow sensed his death. Why? Why Sirius? Hermione just wanted one reason. One way to accept it... But there wasn't any.

_- Flashback-_

"_Sirius... I need to talk to you," Hermione requested with a heavy, serious voice, attempting to look confident. Sirius looked up at her, mildly surprised, and agreed with his head. As usual, he had been in his mother's bedroom. Tomorrow Hermione would be leaving to Hogwarts... "Please, cast a Silencio on the room," she added softly, trying to stop her knees from trembling. Sirius now raised his eyebrows and mutely did as told. Ignoring Buckbeak's hoots she sat down in front of Sirius, who stared at her emotionlessly. _

"_What is it?" He asked, breaking the silence. Hermione, with great effort, looked at him. _

"_Sirius... It's not my fault that Harry's leaving tomorrow." She told him, somewhat angry with the indifferent tone of his voice. Sirius bored his eyes into hers and didn't say anything at first; probably mulling over what she had said. _

"_I know," he snarled at the end. "It's not only Harry. If I'm not mistaken, you're leaving too." Hermione frowned at this, part of her feeling happy that he cared, and the other part slightly annoyed with his attitude. "And I'll be alone again, with only blasted Kreacher to keep me company. Don't worry, I'm used to it. I don't need compassion." _

"_Do you think this is easy for me?" Hermione asked him loudly. "Do you honestly believe that I want to leave you?" Her voice was starting to tremble. Calm down, Hermione. Calm down... "Because if you do, allow me to tell you that you're sadly mistaken." Sirius looked down with a frown and threw the remaining bone towards Buckbeak; and Hermione knew he was feeling as frustrated as her. _

"_Sorry," he muttered in the end. "It's just..." His voice died down and didn't finish the sentence; the unsaid words lingering in the air. Hermione bit her lower lip and also looked down. Again, silence fell. This was turning out to be the most awkward talk Hermione had shared with someone, and she was starting to feel a strong urge to stand up and leave. Hermione knew what had to be done; problem was that she just didn't want to do it. _

_Couldn't they continue to live, just for a little bit more, in that special life they had shared during most of the holiday break? Please... Just a little bit more. That was all she asked. But Hermione knew that those days were gone. Reality had kicked in, and reality tended to be crude and imperfect. _

"_Hermione..." Sirius didn't need to continue. She had heard it all in his voice; yes, she knew. She knew what was coming, and for the life of her she didn't want to go through it. Her eyes started to swim in tears. "Don't cry, love," Sirius whispered, leaning in to touch her cheek, but Hermione tensed and turned her head away. _

"_Don't make it worse, Sirius," she croaked. She wouldn't be able to resist the hurt if he continued being so nice to her. "This is hard enough," she added. _

"_I know." He simply replied. "Farewells are never pleasant." Hermione tightly closed her eyes and tried to breathe; she didn't want to sob. She had to be strong, she had to be strong; it wasn't as though she hadn't known that this would eventually happen. _

"_We can work our way through this," Hermione stated, opening her eyes and fixing them on Sirius. "Yes, you're older than me; yes, you're my best friend's godfather-" It was getting harder and harder to talk through her sobs, and to see through her tears, but she had to say this. "Yes, the War... It all comes in the way." Hermione stood up and turned away from him. "But I still love you." She confessed barely above a whisper. _

_A minute passed in complete silence, and then Hermione felt Sirius's hand gently touching her shoulder. Unconsciously, she shivered. _

"_No, you don't love me," his soft voice reached her ears. Hermione turned around sharply, her tears rolling down her cheeks. _

"_Yes, yes I do!" She breathed; all of a sudden embracing him. "Since the first time that I saw you..." she trailed off. Gently but firmly, Sirius broke the embrace. He cupped her face in his hands and gazed at her longingly._

"_You may be in love with me, Hermione," he started, speaking barely above a whisper. "But you don't love me. You simply can't, and you shouldn't. Have you any idea of what you're saying? The weight of those three words?" He continued. "You are the only girl I've cared so much about, and I'm also wrong there. You need to be with someone that is your own age; someone who deserves you," he finished, swallowing. He let go of her face and stepped backwards. _

_Hermione resisted the urge to wail. She was supposed to be the rational and logical one! Passion wasn't one of her attributes!_

"_You deserve me," she replied. Sirius shook his head no sadly. _

"_I will always care for you, sweet," Sirius told her. "But you must understand, as much as it pains me to tell you this, that we can't be together." _

"_I know," Hermione managed to get out, looking at him. Yes, she knew, and she understood, and she knew that he was absolutely right. But that couldn't stop the pain cursing through her. "Can I... Can I hug you?" she shyly asked him. He smiled and nodded, opening her eyes to receive a broken hearted Hermione._

_- End flashback-_

No sounds could be heard in Grimmauld Place. Much to her dismay, Hermione hadn't been able to hold her tears at bay as she remembered their break up, and clutched the silver bracelet for some comfort that didn't come to her aid. Stupid St. Valentine's Day! Hermione sprung from the couch and determinately went through the living room and up the dark staircase. If she was going to kill herself in a few days, then she might as well take a last look at Sirius's bedroom. Just to see the picture that rested on his bedside table once more...

The front door opened and Harry entered the house, shivering with the cold breeze, and shut the door behind him. Why was everything so dark? "Hello?" He called as he lit up the candles and lamps. "Anyone home?" He added, peeking up the stair. No answer. Harry raised his eyebrows as he went up the stairs. "Hermione? Are you-" He cut himself off at the sight of a fuming Hermione. "Have you been crying? Are you alright?" He wanted to know, catching her red nose and bloodshot eyes. She looked ready to start throwing vapour out of her ears.

"Why can't I enter Sirius's room?" She questioned in a false calm voice. She didn't care about being cautious anymore. Harry's brow furrowed.

"Because I locked it."

"Why?"

"To prevent anyone from entering," he answered matter-of- factly. Hermione stamped her foot on the floor; she knew that that wasn't a very mature thing to do, but she didn't care. She had tried with the _Alohomora_, but it hadn't worked. Who was Harry to stop her from entering there? What right did he have to tell her what to do or stop doing?

"I'll Apparate inside, then!" Hermione snarled. Harry crossed his arms.

"I've put wards."

"Don't you think I can't deactivate them?" She barked, ready to punch Harry. The anger flaring inside of her was impossible to describe. Harry didn't understand anything! Few times in her life had she felt so livid.

"You're not entering that room again and that's it!" Harry told her loudly.

"Unlock that door!" Hermione screeched.

"What is it with that room, Hermione?! Why are you so keen on entering it?!" Harry asked her even louder than before.

"That's none of your business!" She exclaimed.

"Yes it is!"

"I don't need you to look after me!" Hermione finally lost it. "You can't boss me around! I have the right to go into the room if I please!" Harry was blushing furiously, while Hermione was as pale as a ghost.

"It's not healthy, Hermione! It only hurts you!" Harry retorted. "Sirius is dead!"

"I have noticed, thank you!"

"I should've locked that bedroom since you first came in!" Harry told her, pointing at the door angrily.

"What gives you the right to?!" Hermione yelled.

"HE WAS MY GODFATHER!" Harry hollered back. Hermione felt her heart hammering in her chest at this. _AND HE WAS MY BOYFRIEND!_

"WELL, I DON'T CARE! UNLOCK THAT DOOR!" She shouted instead, also pointing at the bedroom.

"THIS IS MY HOUSE!" Harry retorted. Hermione blinked a few times at this, and Harry grimaced. "I'm so sorry-" he started, still breathing heavily (as Hermione), reaching out to her arm.

"Don't touch me," Hermione hissed, stepping away from him. "Fine, this is your house."

"Hermione, please-" Hermione turned away from him and started walking towards her own bedroom with heavy steps; Harry followed her. "I got carried away," he started again. As if he hadn't said anything, Hermione turned around and fixed her eyes on his.

"I'll be gone by morning."

That said, and not waiting for a response, Hermione entered her bedroom and slammed the door in Harry's face. Harry wanted to hit his head on the wall, feeling frustrated and sad. He had never wanted to hurt her... He sighed and knocked on her door for nearly ten minutes, but nothing came. Sighing sadly, he turned away and went to this own room. He would apologize tomorrow and she would stay, Harry was sure of it. Then why did he find himself with the same uneasy feeling he had felt that fateful day, in his fifth year, when he had said goodbye to Sirius?

-+-

A/N: Well, there it is. This chapter was a lot longer, but I decided to cut it in two. I hope that this was good enough! Please, don't forget to review... See you on the next chapter! Bye!


	13. Lost and Found

Lost and found

A/N: Hi hi hi! As always, thank you for the reviews! They're just awesome! Keep 'em coming D On other subject, brace yourselves for a relatively long chapter! This chapter is crucial, and I wanted to make it really good. I hope you think it is so... That being said... On with the chapter!

Disclaimer: Damn, not yet. I'm doing the best I can.

"_I was alone, falling free  
Trying my best not to forget  
What happened to us, what happened to me  
What happened as I let it slip_

_I was alone, staring over the ledge  
Trying my best not to forget  
All manner of joy, all manner of glee  
And our one heroic pledge  
How it mattered to us, how would it mattered to me  
And the consequences..."_

"_**Meds"- Placebo.**_

-+-

An abysmal silence surrounded them; surrounded _him_. Head cradled in hands, elbows resting on knees, and tightly closed eyes. The unnaturally clean white hallway did not bring comfort; and the atmosphere that hung there was full of worry, deception, and plain shock. Nothing had prepared him for this. Out all the things he, they, had seen, almost nothing compared to this.

_**Twenty minutes earlier...**_

That morning claimed, and was full of promises, that spring was near. The sun shone, even though the breeze was freezing, and the birds and bees went on their daily affairs. Grimmauld Place found itself resting in a cozy, peaceful silence; the rooms had an almost ethereal look to them thanks to the early sunlight streaming through the windows. It was one of those days when you wake up and say "nothing can ever go wrong today", just because you caught a glimpse of the clear blue sky.

At eight o'clock, in the kitchen, Harry ran his fingers through his hair and sighed. He had to talk to Hermione and apologize, beg to her that she didn't leave the house, and talk to her about Sirius's room. He finished his cup of tea and stood up, gathering courage. As he walked through the kitchen and climbed the stairs, the silence freaked him out. It wasn't a _normal_ silence. He would gladly lit up one of Fred and George's fireworks just to make it stop.

Hermione's bedroom door was in front of him, and suddenly he felt scared. Scared and unsure... Why? The worst it could happen was that he woke her up... And even though Harry didn't like that idea, something was strangely off. He breathed in deeply and knocked on the door. Nothing. He knocked harder, longer. Again, no answer.

"Hermione? Are you awake?" His voice reverberated in the hallway, almost as an echo, and he frowned, again knocking on the door- he'd kick it down if he had to. "Please let me in?" He tried. He felt as if he was talking to a wall; suddenly the door in front of him had become a powerful and mocking barrier between Hermione and him. Harry grabbed the doorknob and, praying that Hermione wouldn't hex him, carefully turned it. She hadn't locked it. Harry opened the door slowly, carefully... "Herm? Are you awake?" He wanted to know, taking a peek from the crack of the door.

No, she wasn't. Her arm was dangling limply off the mattress, to the floor, and her head was turned to the wall. It was strange that she hadn't heard all the noise he had been making... Even Hermione had to acknowledge it. Harry stepped next to the bed and his brow furrowed when he noticed how pale she looked. Even paler than before, if that was still possible. Her mouth was slightly open. "Hermione?" He asked gently, putting a hand over her shoulder. She didn't even move. Her breathing was calmed and slow... _Too_ slow. It was almost imperceptible... Harry's frown intensified. "Hermione," he repeated, slightly shaking her shoulder. Her body responded as though it was made of jelly... Fear punctuated his chest; or so it felt. "Hermione!" He called, now shaking her shoulder firmly, with widened eyes. Panic started to rise from his throat, clenching it, to his brain. "Answer me!" He ended up exclaiming, shaking her from both shoulders. As he did so, his eyes found her bedside table. And over it lay the open plastic bottle which had been once full of Rivotril and was now..._ empty_. Harry saw this and his eyes nearly popped out if their sockets.

In fact, he was sure that he heard his brain go on lockdown as panic overruled his mind, body, and soul. No, it couldn't be. It just couldn't. This was a very nasty dream, yes, it was.

Harry wanted to scream, cry, run away, save her; he didn't know. "How many pills did you take?!" He questioned Hermione's limp form, still shaking her. "Hermione, answer me! How many did you take?!" He repeated. Harry found himself short of air and slightly dizzy; his hands were trembling.

"Ssss-" Hermione opened her mouth, but not her eyes. "Sss-" Harry stared at her trying to say something; but now it seemed that the air reaching her lungs was not enough. "Ssssix..." she hissed, and her head again fell to the side. Harry, for a couple of seconds, stood transfixed; his mind blank. It was there, just in front of him, and he could not take it in. No coherent thought graced his mind. At last, like a slap in the face, he reacted.

"YOU TOOK SIX!!" He couldn't help but to yell, as her words hit him. With some effort Harry cradled Hermione in his arms and ran out of her bedroom, crouching over, for her body was heavy and lax. He ran down the stairs two at a time, panting and sweating. As Harry stood in the living room, Hermione's body swaying in his arms, he once again found himself petrified. The thoughts racing through his head were too many, and travelled too fast for him to grab one.

Harry felt something wet fall on his sleeve and he blinked, gazing down at Hermione. Droplets of blood were starting to fall from her nostrils... Again he started trembling as his mouth closed and opened with no sounds. Harry closed his eyes tightly and felt the now usual feeling of being sucked through a very narrow rubber tube...

St. Mungos was fairly empty that Sunday morning. Harry ran towards the reception desk, feeling as if someone had put him on auto pilot.

"Good mor-" The reception witch cut herself off at the sight of Harry, panting and frantic, and Hermione's body and bleeding nostrils. "Good gracious!" She exclaimed, standing up. "What has happened?" She added. Harry swallowed.

"Overdose," he croaked. "Overdose." he repeated, his eyes bulging. The mediwitch widened her eyes.

"Merlin... Williams!" she barked, turning to a wizard who was about to enter a ward. "This girl has had an overdose!" The wizard also widened his eyes and hurried to Harry's side, taking Hermione's pulse and nodding. He waved his wand and a stretcher popped out of thin air, floating in front of Harry.

"Sir, please place her on the stretcher," The wizard asked, gazing at him. Harry blinked, looked at the stretcher, at Hermione, and then nodded, carefully laying her on it. A trail of small red droplets gleamed on the floor. Harry's mind was a blur of thoughts, none of which seemed clear, as he stared at Hermione floating on the stretcher.

What had just happened?

"Sir, please calm down," The receptionist voice reached his ears. Harry turned to look at the witch and gulped.

"What?" he rasped. The witch sighed.

"You are hyperventilating," she said. "Try to calm down. You'll have to answer some questions," she added. Harry followed the witch unsteadily, trying to regain breath. "Name?"

"Harry Potter. The girl's name is Hermione Granger."

"What did she have an overdose of?"

"Rivotril, I believe."

"Muggle medicine? Well, she'll be on the third floor," the mediwitch told him, scanning a long list of patients. Harry supposed that it was the same as Hogwarts; where a patient was taken, her or his name would be automatically listed? "Augustus Pye will take care of her." Harry nodded and looked away, swallowing again. His mouth felt made of sand. "If you wish to contact anybody, you can use the chimneys over there," the witch told him, signalling to a line of them next to the main door. Harry walked towards them, having the weird impression that he was watching himself grab the floo powder instead of actually being doing it. He kneeled in front of the green flames and waited; soon enough he could see Ron's sleepy face appear.

"What is it, Harry? It's too early," his friend said, yawning. Luna came and sat down next to Ron, gazing at Harry with a dreamy look.

"I'm in St. Mungos," Harry managed to say. Ron's eyes widened.

"What's wrong?" He asked.

"Hermione. Overdose." Harry spluttered. Ron started coughing and Luna gasped, taking a hand to her mouth.

"W- What?" Ron asked, still coughing over the flames.

"Hermione had an overdose?" Luna asked quietly. Harry agreed with his head and found himself quite incapable of speaking properly; a knot lodged in his throat.

"I can't believe it either." He replied. Ron still looked unbelieving.

"Blimey, Harry... I'll... I'll tell everyone." And Ron and Luna were gone. Harry sat there, staring at the now empty fireplace for a couple of minutes. Why? Why had Hermione tried to kill herself?

And there they found themselves fifteen minutes later; sitting outside Hermione's ward. Ron and Luna were sitting next to Harry in complete silence; Ginny was looking green and Draco was trying to comfort her, though looking unnaturally pale. Lupin and Tonks were standing next to Ginny and Draco in equal shock. Harry felt sick; guilt cursing through his body in relentless, unforgiving waves.

"_I'll be gone by morning."_

How could he have known? How could Harry have known how literal her words had been? If only he had insisted a little bit more, if only he had been more careful, more aware- How could they have missed that Hermione was feeling suicidal...? But why? _Why_ was she feeling like that? What made her feel that she had no way out?

"Harry, you're shaking," a voice floated next to him. Harry looked up and saw Luna there, staring at him sadly. Her hand was over the small maroon spot on his sleeve.

"Her nose started bleeding," Harry told her, nodding in direction of the spot. "It was my fault," he said, staring at the door opposite to them. Hermione was in there, whether alive or not, he did not know... "She told me something. She told she'd be gone by morning..." He trailed off, hiding his head beneath his hands again.

"You couldn't know, Harry," Luna told him slowly. "Nobody could have. Hermione wanting to commit suicide is not..." Her voice died down and didn't continue. He had confronted Voldemort four times –only the fourth being successful in killing him-; he had seen Cedric, Dumbledore and Sirius die... Goodness, in fifth year Harry had thought Hermione _had_ died.

But it still didn't compare to this. Seeing her there, limp and still. Her hair messy, the rings under he eyes, her thinness. No, Hermione Granger as he knew her had died a long time ago... And the question remained as to _why_. Two sharp intakes of air made him snap back into reality, and he looked up from his hands. The door had been opened and Augustus Pye stood under the doorframe, looking serious.

"Harry Potter?" He asked, and Harry stood up like struck by lightening. Augustus beckoned Harry to follow him and Harry did as told, entering the grim looking ward in which Hermione was in. The mediwizard closed the door behind him, and Harry anxiously waited for him to start talking. "We had to pump her stomach," Augustus started. "We think she drank the pills somewhere between five and six a.m.," he continued. Harry tried to speak, but he seemed to have left his voice outside the ward. "We also had to give her some potions to calm her blood pressure and heart condition," he explained.

"And- And..." Harry tried to say, his voice strangely high pitched. Augustus smiled slightly.

"She'll be alright."

The three most wonderful words in the entire universe, Harry's brain decided. His throat unclenched and his lungs seemed to swell three times their size as he breathed in deeply, covering his face with his hands. It was no wonder that his eyes watered at the news; the last time he had felt so powerfully relieved had been when he defeated Voldemort. "Oh Merlin..." he muttered; his stomach churned and turned with happiness, replacing the feeling of nausea. "Excuse me," Harry said, turning over to the door. He breathed in deeply and opened it.

Ginny, Luna and Tonks gasped again; Draco and Ron swallowed and Lupin frowned in concern; all of them waiting with bathed breath to know what had happened to Hermione. Harry gazed at them all in silence.

"She'll be okay," he finally said, his face dissolving into a smile. Ginny broke down and started crying, Draco grinned and hugged her; Ron laughed loudly and embraced Luna; Tonks and Lupin grinned widely and went over to Harry, hugging him and shaking hands. Harry felt a hand on his shoulder and he turned around to see Augustus standing there.

"I'll be right back," Harry told the people around him, following the healer back into the ward.

"I didn't want to tell you this in front of everyone," Augustus started, making Harry raise his eyebrows, and the fear returned at full strength. "It was a wonder how Mrs. Granger managed to survive, Mr. Potter. As I'm sure you must have noticed, she is toeing the line of anorexia. And having an overdose... Well, let me just say that if you had not brought her here, she wouldn't have survived." The healer told him. Harry sighed and pouted.

"What do you suggest we do?" He asked. Augustus shook his head.

"I'd like her to stay here for a couple of days, just in case she attempts to kill herself again, first of all. We'll also make her gain more weight."

"That's settled, then. Can I... Can I talk to her?" Harry wanted to know.

"Certainly... But don't worry if she seems disoriented or anything of the sort. It's the after effect of the overdose and the potions we had to give her," Augustus responded, leading Harry towards the last bed of the ward.

Every inch of her seemed to ache. Her stomach felt awful; even breathing was difficult and painful. Her brain was muddled or lost in some mist; and her throat burned. Where was she? Everything was blurry... Images came scattered... Hermione wasn't in her own bedroom; that was for sure. What had happened...? The last thing she remembered was taking the pills. Was she alive? The pain her body was submitting her to told her so. Why was she alive? Something made the mattress moan and Hermione tried to bring to focus a black blob sitting on the bed.

"Hermione?" A male asked her shakily. Hermione narrowed her eyes; her head hurt.

"Who are you?" She asked in return, holding out her hand. The male grabbed it and squeezed it.

"Harry." Hermione widened her eyes and shook her head, which was not a good idea, but it cleared her view. Slowly, she could distinguish Harry's pale face. He looked sick with worry. "Why did you do it, Hermione?" He added, his voice trembling. Hermione lied back on her pillows and lowered her eyes.

"I wanted to sleep," she muttered.

"Please... Don't lie anymore." Harry whispered.

"I'm not... I'm not lying," Hermione looked up at him and her lower lip started trembling. She knew she had scared and hurt him and all of her friends. She didn't want to be alive to hear them say that she had been selfish and foolish; she didn't want to be alive to see them look at her with disappointment and shock in their eyes.

"Didn't you think about us? Didn't you think about me?" Harry asked without looking at her. "I thought I'd never see you again; I thought I had lost you forever..." his voice started to break down, and he fell silent as he covered his face with his hands. Hermione's eyes filled with tears. She didn't know what to say. When Harry uncovered his face, Hermione was startled to see tears rolling down his cheeks. The last time she had seen Harry cry, Dumbledore had died.

"Harry..."

"Don't- Don't do it again, Hermione. I've already lost my parents, Sirius, and Dumbledore. Don't you leave me, too." He told her, breaking eye contact.

"I'm sorry," Hermione ended up crying. "I'm so sorry, Harry..." Despite the pain, Hermione moved to hug him tightly. Yes, she was sorry. She didn't want to die. Not like that, at least. It felt as if someone had broken a dam in her chest as she sobbed into Harry's shoulder. Hermione didn't regret attempting to commit suicide, because at least, it taught her that desperate measures only brought desperate times.

-+-

Hermione returned to Grimmauld Place two weeks after the overdose; where she discovered that they had organized a welcome back party. The rings and bags under her eyes were gone, and her weight was back to normal. As if Christmas had come again, everyone was there, offering her words of comfort and apologies. In Hermione's honour, Ron even made paces with Draco. A truce, at least. Hermione wanted to confront Remus in the party, but what should she say? What if she said the wrong thing and Lupin took hold of something that he really shouldn't know? She was spared of that torture, thank goodness, but Lupin himself.

"Hermione... I owe you an explanation," he said once everyone was in the living room. Hermione, who was putting the dirty dishes in the sink, nodded.

"Yes, I think you do." She heard Lupin sigh and patiently waited for him to start. She was walking on _very_ thin ice here.

"I heard Nymphadora tell you that when I got it you had already left for Hogwarts, and that was true. Sirius didn't want to send it over to you, because he was afraid that the letter and the gift would be inspected," Lupin began. Hermione agreed with her head again, not looking at him.

"He was right. But why did you keep it for so long?" She finally asked, gazing at him accusingly. "Why not give it to me once Umbridge had been sacked?"

"Because I forgot." Hermione frowned at his answer.

"You _forgot_?"

"I'm sorry, but yes, I forgot. With Sirius's and Dumbledore's deaths; and the War..." he trailed off. "Please, Hermione, believe me. I'm being honest." Hermione turned to look at the sink, thinking about what he had said. The explication sounded logical, at least. Hermione had to admit (swallowing her pride) that she too would've forgotten about a small Christmas present that failed to be delivered during a whole year. And still, for some reason, it hurt to think that. It was as though because Sirius had died everyone had forgotten about him and his wishes.

"Forgiven," Hermione finally stated, turning to smile at Lupin. "At least I finally got the present." Hermione stared at the bracelet and bit her lower lip, remembering the letter Sirius had wrote her. "I just wish... I just wish I could thank him." Hermione confessed barely above a whisper. Lupin once again sighed.

"I know."

-+-

Harry was out working, and Hermione was, not surprisingly, alone in the house. As she had been allowed to miss work for a few days, due to her stop at the hospital, she had decided to make the best of it. Now, loneliness didn't choke her as it had done before- Hermione's feelings had gathered, mixed, reached boiling point and exploded in a suicidal rage, so now they were, for the moment, tranquil. The Healers had told her that from now on, she had to drink Dreamless potions instead of using medication, and that she'd eventually be able to rest without no other thing but sleepiness.

Harry had unlocked Sirius's bedroom, so now she could go in and out of it as she pleased; her visits to the room didn't have to be desperate and in the middle of the night. Harry still didn't approve of her entering there (he never did), but he at least let her do it without as much as a glare. Currently, Hermione was immersed in a library she had found near what had been Sirius mother's room; she was actually on a ladder so she'd be able to reach the top of the book shelves.

Cobwebs and thick layers of dust covered the books in the last and higher shelve, tapping Hermione's curiosity. As she gazed critically at the different books, her eyes fell on a thick black book, hiding between piles of old parchment. Hermione frowned and retrieved the book from its resting place, coughing slightly when a cloud of dust surrounded her. The cover was completely black; there was nothing written in it. Hermione raised her eyebrows as she turned the book over, and shrugging she opened it.

The pages were yellow and tattered, almost transparent; was it so old? But what surprised her the most was that there was nothing written in it. Perhaps it was a diary that someone had never used? She remembered Riddle's diary and frowned. Hermione's hand smoothed the first page and she softly blew on it, afraid that the parchment would disintegrate. Her eyes widened until it hurt when she saw, right before her very eyes, words starting to form on the page anxiously, as though happy to be read again. As the page wrote itself Hermione narrowed her eyes and squinted at the old calligraphy.

As she read the name of the chapter, her mouth fell open and air was momentarily knocked out of her. "Oh my...!" she breathed as she continued reading, her heart hammering in her chest. She couldn't believe this. It was not possible that the answer to... To...! "Oh, goodness," she lisped. It was all written in _here_; in this forgotten book in Grimmauld Place...!

-+-

A/N: Ah! This is also one of my favourite chapters... So? How was it? Review and tell me about what you think about it! The more reviews I get, the faster I'll update, so take a minute of your time to leave one! Please? Until next chapter... Adieu!


	14. Decision

Decision

A/N: Hello there! Thank you for your reviews- I can't get tired of telling you how happy they make me. We are getting closer and closer to my one of my favourite parts of this fic... So without further ado... Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I only own the plot, thank you.

"_So pardon me while I burst into flames  
I've had enough of the world  
And it's people's mindless games_

_So pardon me while I burn  
And rise above the flame  
Pardon me, pardon me  
I'll never be the same..."_

"_**Pardon Me"- Incubus. **_

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

How silly of her.

After all of what she had gone through, anyone would think that she was heartless and unforgiving. But she was not. She didn't know if that was good or bad... She just didn't know anymore. Hermione used to think that everything negative she was feeling would give way to a greater thing, a good thing.

But that good thing never came.

Why? Why was it like that? Why did every little thing have to be ruined by those feelings of loss and loneliness? How very silly of her. To think it would last. It never did; she should've learned by now. But tomorrow it would only be a bad dream, another nightmare to stash in the back of her head; another rock thrown into the ocean. But what would happen when the nightmares became too many? Hermione hoped she didn't ever find out... She didn't want to try to commit suicide again. Afterall, only a month has passed since her overdose (her stomach still hurt, sometimes).

Hermione shook her head and willed herself to focus on the work she was supposed to be doing, but it just wasn't happening. She had wasted so much time on nothing; on her stupid fixation on Sirius, and she felt so weary, sick and old. Like she had wasted her life on something that didn't have a reason or a solution. The tranquillity she had experienced over the course of those two weeks in St. Mungos was long gone, and Hermione knew why.

It was this house.

It was the house, which liked to feast on the little happiness she had inside. It was like a vampire, sucking her blood until she was as empty as this house had been before it became the Order's headquarters. Many would think that, now that she knew what Grimmauld Place did to her, it would be a sensible move to move out of there. The only problem was, in fact, that Hermione didn't want to leave the house. Now, why didn't she want to get out of there as fast as she could? Far from the memories and the pain; to move on.

Well, she didn't want to _move on_. If she had her way, she'd never get over Sirius... Hermione knew that it was not wise to dwell on dreams, but, hell, she couldn't help it. The book she had found was a sign, she knew it. She had already read it from beginning to end, and it was still hard to swallow. She had been so excited about it, and she had read it so quickly, that not a word remained in her head. She had to plan this very carefully- she didn't even dare to imagine how many things could go wrong. Not that she cared if anything was to happen to her; Hermione didn't care about herself.

Since the overdose, everyone had been oh so kind to her; they were all over her, showering her with praise, sweet words, and company. A few months ago, Hermione would've been more than delighted with this, but she was _not_ stupid. She didn't forget how lonely she had been, she didn't forget that on Christmas no one had noticed she was missing; she didn't forget that if she had not tried to take her own life things would have been the same, and nothing would have changed.

Hypocrites.

Hermione frowned and scowled at this thought. _"Everything will be okay, Hermione. In a few months this will be over, and you won't survive this time around. Just focus on your work for now, finish it, and then you'll be able to read the black book. Everything will be okay..."_ Repeating this mantra over and over, she let out a sigh of frustration and poured over her work, still disappointed with her life and friends.

-+-

She had changed. Everyone could see that. There was the Hermione from before the overdose, quiet, silent and unreachable. Then there was the Hermione _after_ the overdose: sarcastic, cold, and more unreachable than before. Before there was a bracelet and pills, now there was the bracelet and a black book that she carried wherever she went.

Hermione hid herself behind the work they gave her in the Ministry, yes, she hid herself and the worst part was that she apparently didn't regret it. Her close friends felt as if they had lost her; it was like an endless game of hide and seek that they never won. Harry and Ron had asked the witch who worked with Hermione about it, and the witch had cheerfully said "Oh, Hermione? She's such a nice girl... Very hardworking and polite..." So was it safe to assume that the problem resided with them?

The small window Arthur's old office offered a shining sun that morning, being May 23rd. As usual, Hermione was immersed in calculations and writing on a parchment when Harry entered. She glanced up at him and resisted the urge to sneer before concentrating on the page in front of her again.

"What're you doing, Hermione?" Harry offered with a smile, sitting down in the chair in front of her.

"Well, I'm watering some plants, if you'd like to help me..." Hermione answered him absentmindedly, crossing out a sum. Harry raised his right eyebrow at her response, feeling slightly annoyed with this new attitude.

"Malfoy would be proud of how you're acting," he said. Hermione nodded.

"Oh, he is... He told me the other day."

"Are you mad at me?" Harry wanted to know.

"Not really," she replied, not even looking up from her work. "I've just been busy..." Hermione would have liked to tell him the truth, but honestly, she didn't feel like dealing with them. Sometimes she did feel guilty about treating her friends like that, but she felt as if they were their only outlet for her frustration.

"You can't hide from the world forever, Hermione. Trust me."

"Don't talk to me like that," she told him, glaring at him.

"Like what?"

"As if you know how it feels," Hermione retorted. How could he know? Goodness! Hermione knew that Harry had gone through most of this during his life, but it still bothered her that Harry treated her like he knew all about it, like he had undergone what she was going through now-

"I'm telling you because I know how it is. I did it throughout all of fifth year," Harry said. Hermione snorted.

"Yeah, I remember. Look, Harry, I have work to do here-"

"Today's Sirius's birthday," Harry ejaculated. A black spot of ink tainted Hermione's parchment as she sharply looked up, widening her eyes.

"What?"

"You heard me." Hermione broke eye contact and gazed down at the paper before her eyes, frowning. She had forgotten all about it... In her fifth year she had sent Sirius a birthday card... She scarcely remembered what it said... Had he kept it? Hermione sighed at this; she'd never know. She'd never know if he had liked it, if he had been happy when he received it...

"I see," she finally replied, looking up at Harry. "How are you feeling?" she decided to ask. Harry shrugged one shoulder.

"Empty. You?"

"Pretty much the same."

"I never knew you cared about him," Harry started. "You even seemed to dislike him," he added. Hermione ran her fingers through her hair and looked away.

"No, I didn't dislike him. He simply was very lonely..." she trailed off, biting her lower lip and trying to block all the memories that accompanied that sentence. She recalled his voice when they broke up... He had sounded so bitter, so powerless.

"I guess so." A silence fell over the two of them, each one lost in their own thoughts. "It'd be so nice to see him again," Harry broke the silence with a hollow voice. "If there was any way to bring him back..." Hermione swallowed and blinked rapidly to stop the stinging sensation in her eyes at his comments.

"Nothing can revive the dead," Hermione whispered.

"Oh, I know," Harry said, trying to smile convincingly. "It's just..." his voice died down and Hermione breathed in deeply, knowing how he was feeling. She could not forget that she wasn't the only person that had loved Sirius; and this realization made guilt squeeze her heart. She was about to open her mouth to speak when Harry stood up, startling her. "Well, you have work to do. I'm leaving," he stated, making Hermione raise her eyebrows, but before she could say anything Harry was already about to walk out of her office.

"Harry?"

"I'd like to think so," he told her with a smile that Hermione returned.

"Thanks for telling me."

"I thought you ought to know."

-+-

_Where was she? Was she somewhere? Everything was excruciatingly black; there were neither sounds nor any sign of movement. Briefly, Hermione wondered if she was standing or floating, for she failed to feel the floor under her feet. Her mouth would not emit any sound, either, because it was as though someone had placed a permanent sticking charm on her lips. Hermione tried to step forwards and discovered, with much surprise, that each of her wrists were bound with something, not allowing her to move. Beginning to panic, Hermione tugged on her wrists, but the ropes that binded them to the ceiling didn't bulge. Hermione tried to scream, but only a muffled and low sound came out of her mouth. She tried again and again, tugging on the ropes and mutely hollering for someone to free her, but nothing was happening. _

_Her eyes started getting used to the darkness, and the place begun to take shape. It was huge; a gargantuan and endless room... Hermione gazed at the ropes tightly bound round her wrists but could not distinguish the ceiling from which they were presumably hanging. The silence was simply deafening... Hermione tugged and tugged, struggling against the bonds as she screamed and begged for help soundlessly. She closed her eyes and felt the warm tears in her eyes as she let herself hang from the wrists limply, feeling so inexplicably tired... _

_Plick, plick, plick; her tears fell to the ground like some sort of bitter rain. The sound was magnified by the silent room, the soft falling of water on the floor. Warm and salty tears rolled down her cheeks slowly, but she didn't make a move to clean her pain, to hide her sadness away. _

_Click. A lock being unlocked._

_Hermione quickly looked up and her eyes widened when she saw an open door at the far end of the room. She couldn't see who had just entered the room; all was bathed in shadows. She started "yelling" again, desperately tugging at the ropes again... The only sound she could hear was the gentle 'thud, thud' of someone lightly walking on the floor. Steadily, never faltering or slowing the pace... Towards her._

Hermione woke up with a start, gasping. She was breathing like she had just run a marathon. Someone was knocking on her door- What a bizarre dream! Hermione had been on the verge of checking her wrists for any signs of binding. What could it have meant? What 'bind' her? Maybe it was her love for Sirius what didn't let her go... And the fact that she couldn't let anyone know about what had happened literaly made her lips get sealed? But what had that door meant? "Who is it?" she asked loudly.

"It's Ginny; we have to go to check on the bridesmaids dresses!" Her friend replied. Hermione sighed deeply.

"Give me ten minutes." She retorted as she glanced at the stack of parchments that rested on the desk of her room. They were full of crossed out sentences and calculations, saturated with black fingerprints and new theories and possibilities. The blessed black book rested next to them, as usual. Hermione shook her head and stood up, grabbing the first robe on which she laid her eyes on, and putting it on. She didn't even bother on make up; she gave her hair a one-two brush and that was it. She then grabbed her purse and wand, and stepped out of her room.

"You look terrible."

"Gee, thanks, that makes me feel so much better."

"No, really... You look shaken. Are you alright?" Ginny asked her. Hermione nodded.

"Nothing that I can't handle," she replied, closing the door after her and starting to walk down the stairs with Ginny at her tail. But... Hermione didn't need any help! She was perfectly alright. She could handle things on her own...

"Are you sure? Do you need anything?" Ginny wanted to know once they had reached the living room. "Because you know; if you ever _do_ need anything-"

"Ginny, I'm not going to throw myself down the stairs, okay? Just drop it, please." Hermione snapped, sounding a little bit harsher than intended. Ginny looked as if she had swallowed a lemon and fell silent.

"My, my, that attitude needs to be taken care of," Draco's carrying voice could be heard, as he stood next to Ginny. Hermione smiled at him.

"I think that no one wants to take that risk," she said. Ginny let out a huff.

"Oh, please. Harry would kill for it," she snorted. Draco raised his eyebrows and Hermione blushed at the comment.

"Pott- Harry likes Hermione?" He wanted to know, a sly smile forming on his face.

"Slobbers all over the place whenever she's around," Ginny retorted. Hermione got redder.

"Excuse me, I'm still standing here!" She announced. "And no, Draco, I _don't_ like Harry back." She added, turning to glance at Draco, who shut his mouth and smirked.

"Someone said my name?" A deep baritone voice interrupted. Hermione whipped around and swallowed, while Draco's smirk grew and Ginny grinned widely.

"Oh no, Harry- Draco and Hermione were bickering," she said. Harry grinned at Hermione and Draco snorted, sound that was quickly hid beneath a false coughing. Hermione rolled her eyes and grabbed Ginny's hand, dragging her towards the door.

"Let's go," Hermione growled, opening the door and almost kicking Ginny outside. The nerve of her! Hermione already knew that Harry fancied her, but to say it just like that... And in front of Draco! Hermione made a mental note to push Harry away as fast as possible- she wouldn't like to hurt him any further.

One hour later, Ginny fluttered and gushed around the bridesmaids dresses while Hermione looked at her from the sidelines. Luna was also there, and she was as excited as the blushing 'to-be' bride- if that "I'm high" look Luna sported could be called excitement. Hermione sat next to the door, watching Luna trying on the dress, and her spirits sunk even lower. She had been reading the book last night, and what she had not pleased by what she had learnt. In fact, she was so horrified by it that Hermione almost quit on the whole thing... Oh, how would she be able to do such thing?

Why should she do such a terrible deed, if she would die afterwards?

Because she could. Because she would make it up to _him_. The weight of the decision she had jsut made slightly disconcerted her.

"Hermione, you need to try it on too!" Luna's voice broke her reverie, her face floating before Hermione's. Luna held the champagne coloured dress with her hand; it was very beautiful and yet simple.

"Must I?" Hermione groaned. Ginny, standing next to Luna, nodded fervently.

"Of course! If it fits, I'll have it bought and ready for October!" The redhead exclaimed. Hermione's stomach did a somersault at this.

"No." Hermione said in a serious voice that made both Ginny's and Luna's eyebrows to shot up. "No, I don't want you to buy it now."

"What- Why?" Ginny asked, frowning. Hermione shook her head.

"I'll try it on, but please don't buy it."

"But-"

"Ginny! I can't explain, okay? Just don't buy it." If only Hermione could tell them... If only she could confess everything. Ginny's frown intensified and they stared at each other for a minute or so, both trying to unravel each other.

"Oh, okay," Ginny told her in the end, handing her the dress. "Try it on and that's it." Hermione nodded as she received the dress, gazing at it with a sad smile.

"You won't regret this decision, Ginny. Believe me..."

-+-

A/N: There you go, another chapter... Hope you liked it! And now, you know the drill: the more reviews I get... The faster I'll update! But besides that, I really like to know what you folks think of the chapters. Reviews really make my day... So... Please leave one?


	15. Three Droplets of Blood

Three droplets of blood

A/N: Hello! Now... I have the feeling that some of you will hate this chapter and me in the process- I don't want to say anything that will actually spoil the chapter- but try not to! Keep reading until the end and you'll find a more 'detailed' explanation on the second A/N; I don't want to lose you guys! Maybe I'm overreacting, but I'd rather let you know how I feel. I'm really, really nervous on what you'll think of this. And now, dearly hoping you don't tell me to piss off and that you will not give up on this story... Read on!

Disclaimer: Nah, I don't own the characters. The plot is mine...

"_I'm planning my release  
Tonight I'll speak the words I never  
thought I'd ever have to say to you_

_For a moment you might see me._

_One more thing that you should know  
I'm not ever coming home..."_

"_**Never Coming Home"- Crossfade.**_

-+-

She let time pass. She let her feelings grow up and strong; she planned things carefully and coldly; she pushed away everything and everybody, for she could not and did not want to be saved. The trip to Knockturn Alley had been done months ago, and everything was at ready.

Except for one thing. One tiny, little, and tremendously significant detail. If Hermione messed up this step of the plan, everything could be ruined. And it was just her luck that this was one of the most crucial steps. When she read the black book, that particular paragraph explaining what she had to do, Hermione had thought it was a joke. It simply had to be. She had spent one or two nights awake, trying to come up with a different possibility, but there was nothing for it.

If Hermione wanted to carry this through, she'd have to do it. But how could she be so heartless? How would she muster the courage and look at Harry in the eye? Did she really want this plan to work?

_Yes._

To what length would she go? Hermione hated magic sometimes. Almost everything had to do with feelings... Why? Why couldn't it be cold and calculating? Well, if she looked at it from the logical point of view, it _was_ cold, bordering on the line of cruelty. It wasn't as if she was going to AK Harry... But to Hermione, she really was going to do so. So if _certain_ people were able to Crucio someone until they had lost their minds, or kill just for the spite of killing with the Avada Kedavra, why couldn't Hermione do what the book was telling her to do? She may be angry, she may be depressed, but she still had a heart, didn't she?

Her birthday was near. Two days from now... Curfew was coming. Hermione had taken up as calling it 'her curfew' because she didn't like the term 'suicide'. It was like some sort of dead man walking, except it was curfew time. She had two days to think this over. Hermione knew she could pretend that nothing had ever happened and try to carry on with her life...

But the book was still there, tempting her... And her life had died... Hermione cradled her head in her hands and closed her eyes tightly. Why? Why did it have to be this way...? Physically and mentally, she was ready. Emotionally? Yes, she was. But that didn't mean that she was ready to do what she had to do, in order for everything to work out.

-+-

The time had come. Her birthday was here. And as Hermione sat on the worn steps of Grimmauld Place, indecision and guilt consumed her. The clear sky was beginning to sport stars, and all that was left of the sun were stripes of violet and light pink painted in the sky. This was it; what would she do? Forget all about it, try to move on; or carry on with her plan, leaving emotion and feelings aside? Hermione knew perfectly well that she couldn't wait anymore...

_You will make it up to him, Hermione, you will. But how can I sink so low? If you carry on with this, what you lost three years ago will be found again... Are you going to let this pass you by? He'll be happy, and eventually he'll forget about you. Don't forget what you're giving to him... Besides, you won't be around anymore. It's not like you're going to care... You'll be dead... _

For a couple of seconds, the balance between those two feelings made Hermione almost wail, feeling tortured. When Hermione lifted her eyes, there was nothing in them. Not any emotion, not any pain. She breathed in deeply and turned to the door. Taking out her wand, she pointed the tip to the lock and the doorknob turned, shining blue for a second. Hermione stepped inside and found that none of the lights were on; she frowned. She had merely taken two steps when...

"SURPRISE!" At least ten voices shouted all together, as Hermione jumped out of her skin and all the lights in the house lit up at the same time. Hermione barely had time to register what was going on when Ginny ran to her and almost knocked her over.

"Happy birthday, Hermione! Twenty years old!" She exclaimed, kissing her cheek.

"Um- Th- Thanks," Hermione stuttered, smiling, as Luna hugged her and kissed her cheek. Streamers and confetti were strewn all over the living room; a pile of presents rested on the couch; a table nearby was overcrowded with candies, butterbeers, a big, white cake and plastic glasses.

"Happy Birthday," Ron told her, kissing her on the cheek, and Hermione stared, slightly open mouthed, at the people crowding the living room.

"You didn't have to do this," she told him barely above a whisper, guilt eating her insides. Harry came over and hugged her.

"You're worth it, Hermione." He told her with a grin. Hermione lowered her eyes but chose not to say anything. The room was full: Harry, Ron, Ginny, Draco, Tonks, Lupin, Luna, Fred and George, with their respective girlfriends, Neville, and some other Hogwarts ex students who had survived the War. All smiling and cheerful, happy and expectant of Hermione, who once again found herself tortured by her dilemma. She didn't deserve all of this. And no matter what Harry said, she was _not_ worthy of any of them.

_-Flashback-_

"_Hermione, what's wrong?" Ginny asked, running over to the corner where Hermione was sitting. Hermione shook her head and continued sobbing, hiding her face beneath her hands. "Oh, Merlin," Ginny breathed, putting her arm around Hermione's shoulder. "No one has died, right?" This question did not sound surprising or shocking anymore, for they were at open war. _

"_Goodness, no," Hermione choked. "I'm just- just being silly-"_

"_Want to talk about it?" Ginny asked her friend gently._

"_I turn seventeen today." Hermione replied, breaking into a new wave of sobs. Ginny raised her eyebrows and bit her lower lip._

"_Oh, I'm so sorry- Happy birthday! Is that why you're crying? I'm so sorry I forgot, Herm-"_

"_It's not- It's not that," Hermione replied, smiling bitterly. _

"_Then what is it?"_

"_I'm of age today..." Hermione trailed off, trying to wipe the tears from her eyes. She knew it was stupid, crying like this over her birthday- But today, today... If Sirius had been alive... She would've been legal... Still too young, she knew, but still legal... Oh, if he would be alive! "I'm just being silly..." Hermione added quickly, shaking her head and trying to calm down. "I'll be alright in a second."_

_-End flashback-_

Since that day, Hermione found her birthdays to be too painful, so it didn't come as a shocker how surprised she was when she stepped inside the house today. But now, on top of the repulsion she had for her own birthday, new feelings were also added to the mix: she felt guilty, she felt like a backstabber, and she also hated this date because it meant of another year of life. But for everyone else's sakes, Hermione put on a brave smile and joined the celebrations, laughing and grinning widely every time she received a present; trying with her whole soul to push other feelings aside.

-+-

Her mind was as silent as she had always wanted it to be; her soul was empty, and her pupils were dilated. If she had ever wanted to learn Oclummency, the state of her emotions at this precise moment would've been ideal. Hermione stared at the chimney in front of her fixedly; the party had ended half an hour ago; it was nearly three in the morning...

Would she do it? Would she? Hermione closed her eyes and her brow furrowed sorrowfully. _Be cold and logical. You can do this. You're strong, you're strong..._

"So? Did you have a good time?" Harry's voice broke her concentration as he flopped down on the couch, next to her. Hermione gazed at him, and her heart broke when she saw his smile.

"Yes, thank you, Harry," she replied quietly, trying to not make her voice tremble. She couldn't do this... "I didn't deserve it," Hermione admitted, looking at the chimney again. She was a backstabber, a monster...

"I've already told you that you do deserve it," Harry replied, his voice stern. "Don't ever doubt it." Hermione's lips tensed and she had to suppress the urge to cry or run away and never look back... Probably both. _Don't do this to me, Harry... Why can't you be mean? Why can't you make me hate you?_

"Things aren't what they seem," Hermione finally said tiredly.

"What do you mean?" Harry wanted to know. Hermione slowly lifted her eyes to meet Harry's and gulped; without replying, she moved to lay her head on Harry's shoulder. After a minute, she felt Harry warily moving his arm to circle her shoulders. Hermione knew that she had advantage here; Harry fancied her... She closed her eyes and felt nauseated with herself. _You're a monster, a monster... You're heartless..._ They were in silence for a while, just laying there on the couch.

_If you're going to do it, then do it now._

"Harry, can I ask you something personal?" Hermione began, attempting to look carefree instead of guilty and full of self hatred.

"Of course you can," he retorted with a smile. _Yes,_ Hermione thought as she tried to swallow. _He's smitten with me._

"Why did you break up with Ginny?" At this question, Harry raised his eyebrows and shrugged.

"I had bigger things to do, and I didn't want her to be involved. Why?" He questioned. Hermione lowered her gaze to his chest, where she began tracing patters with her index finger.

"Do you still have feelings for her?" she decided to ask, looking up at him. _Please, don't see it in my eyes..._ She prayed over and over again. Harry examined her closely, and Hermione began panicking inside. Did he suspect something? Had he sensed her discomfort?

"No," he answered in the end. "I lost interest in her long ago." Hermione nodded and again laid her head on his shoulder, still tracing her index finger up and down on Harry's chest. She felt sick. "Can I ask _you_ something personal?" Harry's voice floated above her, as he lightly curled his fingers around her curls. Hermione nodded but didn't say anything; she didn't trust her voice to keep up with the pretence. "Why did you break up with Ron?"

"Well..." she started, clearing her throat. "We fought too much... But he realized that I was in love with... with someone else," she said, fighting with the knot in her throat. Yes, even Ron had realized she was still in love with a person that had long been dead.

"I see... And who was that someone?" Harry asked. Hermione's insides began tossing and turning, heightening the feeling of nausea... Her hands started trembling slightly. _Monster, monster, you're a monster... Forgive me, Harry, forgive me... Help me, comfort me, stop me from feeling what I'm feeling now... I'm sorry, I'm so sorry..._

"Oh, you know him," Hermione replied, boring her eyes into his and smiling slightly. How could she be doing this?! Harry gulped.

"Do I?" He asked, and Hermione nodded. _Forgive me, forgive me, forgive me..._ She hated herself so much; her skin started to crawl with the hatred... If she didn't deserve death before, she deserved it now. Hermione was suddenly glad that she was killing herself, for she would not be able to live with the pain of what she was about to do. "Hermione..." Harry's voice was thick and nervous; Hermione put her finger on his lips and smiled again.

"Shh..." she cooed before leaning in and kissing him.

-+-

The black shadows of the wall and ceiling seemed to laugh at her in the darkness, and she didn't complain, for she deserved it. Her body shook uncontrollably, as if it also felt horrified. Her eyes were wide open, as though she had just killed her own son- terrified. An arm sneaked around her waist, but she didn't feel the touch. She couldn't feel anything anymore. She was lying on her side, hugging herself, as still as a wooden plank.

She had done it. She had slept with Harry... Her eyes burned and stung, but she would not blink. Even the tears that were starting to form and fall to the mattress felt heavy... They were full of dismay and horror; full of hatred... There was nothing inside... Nothing alive... How could she... How could she...? Hermione felt possessed as she untangled herself from Harry's grip, not wanting to wake him up. There was only one thing left to do.

As lightly as a ghost she treaded the path towards her own room and, once inside, grabbed a small crystal glass, a pin, and her wand from her desk. Had she lost her sense of touch, too? Why couldn't she feel the things she held in her hands? Closing her door after her, she returned to Harry's room. Her eyes were still wide and empty... Her mind was blank; she couldn't even think. Very carefully and softly, she grabbed Harry's hand and pointed the tip of her wand over his index finger.

"_Inmmuny,_" she whispered; the finger glowed silver for a second. Hermione then grabbed the pin and lightly pressed the tip on the skin until it broke, a small droplet of blood forming around it. Hermione took hold of the petite glass and positioned it under Harry's finger. She waited until three droplets of the red liquid had fallen inside of it and then left the glass on the bedside table, doing the same with the pin and wand. Then she proceeded to grab the sheet and gently wrapped it around Harry's finger, waiting for the small injury to close. The spell would lift in a few hours.

Was she dead already? It felt as though she was a shadow, a ghost... An empty shell. Had a Dementor kissed her? From the way she was feeling, it was quite probable.

Once the finger had stopped bleeding, Hermione retrieved the glass, pin and wand from the bedside table and once more went to her room. She threw her wand and the pin on her bed and, tightly clutching the glass with Harry's blood in it, moved over to her closet. She opened the door and her fingers found the old silver goblet, with the Black family crest embossed on it, and carefully took it out. The liquid inside of the goblet looked a lot like Veritaserum, but it was even more transparent. Sometimes, it looked like the goblet was simply empty... Hermione raised the glass and let Harry's three droplets of blood fall into the potion, which glowed and then turned completely black; it glowed again and adopted the same scarlet shade of blood.

Without so much as a blink, Hermione returned the goblet to the same place in which it had been hidden before, and turned to grab a long and old sweatshirt from the lower drawers. She put it on slowly and went out of her room, closing it behind her. Hermione let her feet carry her wherever they wanted and she found herself in front of Sirius's bedroom.

She felt like a puppet as an invisible string pulled her arm up and made her turn the doorknob- The strings moved again and she walked inside, closing the door. She blinked once and slumped against the wall, purposely hitting her head against it, and slid to the floor with a hollow 'THUD'. After that she just sat there, unmoving, staring fixedly at something unseen, sprawled on the dusty floor. She knew she wanted to cry, but her body didn't let her.

Tears sometimes meant sadness, sometimes happiness. They could mean anger, regret, forgiveness, guiltiness; they had a thousands meanings.

The problem was that Hermione wasn't sure if empty shells were allowed to cry.

-+-

A/N: Well, now that the chapter has finished, I can explain a little bit better about Harry and Hermione- I didn't want to spoil anything at the beginning. First and foremost, this will **NOT** turn into a H/Hr story! _Everything_ about this will be explained in the upcoming chapters... Please keep in mind who Harry is and how he is related to Sirius! Changing subjects, I hope that you review and tell me what you thought of the chapter! Until next chapter... Bye!


	16. Remember Me

Remember me

A/N: Hello, and sorry for the delay! My fingers couldn't even get near a keyboard for nearly three days... I apologize if last chapter was a bit confusing... Don't worry; you'll get all the answers for your questions in the following chapters! All in due time, of course... And now, without further ado... Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Nah-uh. Nope. Just the plot.

"_I'm not grieving for you._

_Nothing real love can't undo,_

_And though I may have lost my way,_

_All paths lead straight to you._

_You're not alone,_

_No matter what they told you, you're not alone._

_I'll be right beside you forevermore._

_As we lay in silent bliss,_

_I know you remember me."_

"_**Like you"- Evanescence.**_

-+-

The warm sunlight that insisted on glowing through the curtains shone down on his face, making him screw his face up and yawn. He felt strangely content and happy with his life; he didn't even mind the birds chirping on the nearby tree branches –most of the days, he felt like stupefying them-; Harry smiled widely as he stretched on his bed. Almost on its own accord, his arm looked for Hermione, who should have been sleeping next to him, but she wasn't there. Harry frowned slightly at this but then shrugged, a grin finding the way to his face as he put on his boxers and went out of his room.

Who would've known that Hermione liked him too? It had all been so sudden. No sign of anything since she moved in with him- Only to find out that she had loved him since they were seventeen! Harry ran his fingers through his hair as he went down the stairs, still amazed by the whole deal. Maybe he was getting ahead of himself? No... This was Hermione, after all. She'd never hurt him... Right? Of course. But then... Then why had she tried to kill herself? Harry had not forgotten that. Maybe he would ask her, someday.

Hermione, meanwhile, was sitting in a chair in the kitchen, staring at the wall opposite to her. Any thought that may have run through her head glowed for its absence- Everything inside of her had been bizarrely silent since... since last night. Anyone would have thought, due to everything she had ever done, that her brain would be tormenting her mercilessly, but it wasn't. The vapour coming from her tea licked her face, but she couldn't bring herself to drink it. She felt strangely cool and calmed... But maybe it was the lack of strength to feel anything. Maybe, it was that strange feeling of hollowness inside of her.

"Good morning!" Harry greeted her enthusiastically as he entered the kitchen; his voice reached her ears slowly.

"Morning," Hermione drawled, still staring at the wall. She couldn't muster the courage to look up at him, not after what they had done- Or most importantly, what _she_ had done. It was too painful to even remember it, but she needn't worry about it: every image, sound and word had mixed together hectically, and Hermione frankly didn't want to unravel the mess of memories. She hoped that, if that memory stayed unfocused and blurry, it wouldn't hurt so much.

She heard Harry walking towards her and she closed her eyes tightly; she could feel him sitting down next to her. Once he had apparently sat down, he kissed her temple affectionately, making Hermione shiver in disgust. Not at Harry, but at herself. She had drawn this upon herself, and now she had to carry on with it until the very end.

"Are you okay?" Harry asked her, and she opened her eyes. With a tremendous effort she looked up at him. If only he knew... If only he could know! Would he ever forgive her, if he found out why she had been with him? Would he ever forgive her lies?

"Yes," she replied quietly, glancing down again. Harry smiled and kissed her on the cheek this time, putting his arm around her. Hermione looked away, at the far end of the table, shakily breathing in. She had been strong enough to do what she had done last night and now she felt like she was being molested? _No dice, Hermione. _But she didn't want Harry to kiss her anymore, she didn't want him to hold her; she just wanted him to go away and never come near her again... _This is not fair... You're not being fair to him. He doesn't know anything... I was only doing what the book was telling me to! I can't help it!_

"Hermione? Are you-" Before Harry could finish the sentence she stood up quickly, not being able to resist his touch any longer. Poor Harry... He was not to blame, she knew, but if she could avoid being touched, she would gladly avoid it. If Sirius would have wanted to touch her in this precise moment, she would've recoiled too. It was, surprisingly, nothing personal.

"We have to go to work," she cut him off, briefly locking her eyes with his. "So you better hurry, or we'll be late," she added barely above a whisper, hurrying out of the kitchen, leaving Harry there, with his eyebrows raise. What was wrong now? What had he done? Not only she had avoided looking at him, like he was Peter Pettigrew or something; he sensed how she had tensed under his touch. Maybe she was just shy about it all. Maybe Harry had rushed things... _Rushed things? She was all over you last night._ Harry sighed and made a mental note of talking about this with her, as he gulped down his cup of tea and started walking towards the living room.

Fifteen minutes later, Hermione came down to the front door clutching a black book. Harry glanced at it with wonder, but Hermione didn't ease his curiosity with an explanation. She simply opened the door and stepped outside, turning around and waiting for him to go out. Harry placed the security wards on the house and also stepped out of Grimmauld Place, locking the door and starting to walk next to Hermione. They were in silence for a while...

"Hermione?"

"Yes, Harry?"

"What is that book for?" He asked, leaning over to see it better. There was nothing written on the covers. Hermione shrugged.

"Just some research for work," she answered calmly. Harry nodded at this, waiting for her to expound more on the subject, but she didn't seem to want to elaborate. Hermione sighed inwardly and wondered what she should do. Now more awake and aware, her brain started to catch up, and decided that it was a good time to start making her feel guilty. She wouldn't like Harry to ask dangerous questions, right? She wouldn't like Harry to become suspicious, no? Hermione closed her eyes for a second and reached out to hold Harry's hand, entwining her fingers with his. This was the only way. Harry was not to blame... He deserved nice treatment from her. Oh... If he only knew what was coming...

And linked together by their hands they arrived to the Atrium in the Ministry of Magic; still in some sort of cautious silence. Paying no heed to the wizards and witches who raised their eyebrows at the sight of their joined hands, they passed by the Fountain of Magical Brethren. Harry heard Hermione snort at the position of the elf and he grinned. When Harry started to walk over to the elevator, Hermione bit her lower lip and stopped walking, glancing apprehensively at the grey doors of the crowded elevator.

"What's up?" Harry wanted to know, stepping next to her. Hermione gulped.

"Can't we apparate to our offices?" She asked, looking imploringly at him. Harry raised his eyebrows.

"Um... I don't think that that's allowed," he replied gently, not wanting to upset her. She was even looking at him now. Hermione glanced down for a couple of seconds and then let out a sigh, lifting her eyes again.

"I see... Well... The lift it is, then," she said, briskly walking towards the elevator. As they stood waiting for it, Hermione started wrenching her hands as her lips tensed. When the lift finally arrived and they stepped inside, Hermione resolutely directed her stare at the ceiling and let Harry press the number two. Harry heard her fingers scraping the cover of the book she was carrying, and wondered what was making her so nervous. He saw her stealing glances at the button embossed with the number nine, and then look away as if the very sight of it had burnt her pupils.

"What is it?" He asked her as they went upwards; the memos flying above their heads. Hermione's eyes rested on his face.

"What's what?"

"You know what I mean,"

"It's nothing, Harry, I assure you. Nothing to be worried about. Nothing that I can't handle... Thank you." Her tone was not aggressive; it wasn't reproachful or cold... But it still made Harry frown. It was as though she was trying to push him away –like she had been trying do to, unsuccessfully, for a while now- politely. What about what had happened last night between them? Had that meant nothing to her? Well, it certainly had meant a lot to _him_. But before either of them could utter a word, the doors of the lift opened and Hermione stepped out of it quickly; Harry followed. They walked over to the Auror offices and there Hermione kissed his cheek before walking away, without a glance back.

"What was that about?" Ron asked in surprise. "She didn't even look at me!" Harry shook his head and his frown became more pronounced. He couldn't decide if he felt sad, angry, disappointed, or just at loss for any explanation as to why she was acting the way she was acting.

"I'll be damned if I know," he retorted, looking at Ron. "Let's talk to her later, okay? I'm worried." For some reason, Harry didn't feel like telling Ron what Hermione and he had done, or what she had confessed. Ron scratched his head at his suggestion.

"You don't think she's thinking about... You know... Taking her life again?" He questioned. He saw Harry tense at the mention of suicide.

"Actually, no. But it wouldn't hurt to make sure." Now that Ron had mentioned the frightful S word, fear started plaguing his head again. Yes, definitely, they would talk to her later. It was enough.

-+-

_The Ministry will be empty by now, _Hermione nervously thought as she checked her watch. It read nine p.m. She was in her room, making sure that everything was right- The potion that she had brewed was safely stored in a vial, still resembling blood. The black book was open beside her, on the bed, as she placed the vial on the pocket of her robes. Harry and Ron were downstairs... But she already had a plan to avoid them and get out of the house.

So this was it... This was it. Months of careful planning and painstaking research; a sacrifice that almost sapped her of all willingness to continue... And a dim chance of redemption and hope. Hermione sighed as she stared at the now closed book and left it on her desk, grabbing her wand and placing it inside the pocket of her jeans. Trying to keep her composure she went down the silent stairs of the house; smiling outside the kitchen when she heard the roars of laughter coming from the room. She'd miss her two boys. Straightening her back and breathing in deeply, Hermione pushed the door open and spotted Harry and Ron playing chess, drinking butterbeer as they did so. The scene brought more memories than Hermione cared for. This wouldn't be as easy as she thought it would be...

"Herm!" Ron exclaimed as he drank some of the delicious liquid. "Want to play chess? Harry has already lost, so there's no point-"

"Hey!" Harry said with indignation. "I haven't lost yet!" He argued. Ron chuckled and Hermione's brow furrowed, all of a sudden finding it very difficult to swallow. Ron directed his attention back to the chess and, after examining the pieces, grinned with triumph as he moved the king forwards.

"Alright, if you want to make it official... Checkmate!" He announced, making Harry scowl and Hermione smile shakily. Her blasted lower lip wouldn't stop trembling! As Ron again took a sip from his butterbeer, Harry scrutinized Hermione's face, which was faintly illuminated by the candles floating above them.

"Are you alright?" Her eyes were steady and clear, yet the paleness of her face, combined with the yellowish lights from the candles, made her look as though she was ill. Hermione lowered her eyes and agreed with her head, not saying anything. Ron glanced at Harry, who nodded gravely, and they both stood up.

"We want to talk to you, Hermione," Ron started, making her look up again.

"Can't it be later? I... I promised Ginny I'd drop by... You know... To get some things ready for the wedding and all..." Hermione lied slowly, tiredly- warily.

"She didn't tell me anything," Ron retorted suspiciously. Hermione shook her head.

"No, she couldn't have. We arranged everything today," she quietly said.

"Can't the wedding wait, Hermione? This is very important," Harry suddenly spoke. She turned to bore those indifferent eyes on him.

"No, sorry. We can talk later," Hermione whispered, hoping that they hadn't noticed the tremble in her voice. Harry and Ron looked defeated, but simply chose not to argue.

"Well... See you later then," Ron told her with a smile. Hermione stood frozen on the spot for a while, as silence fell over the three of them, staring at her two best friends fixedly. All of a sudden she took three strides and hugged Ron tightly, kissing his cheek. She broke the embrace and turned to look at Harry, who seemed surprised at her actions.

_I'll make it up to you, Harry, I swear. I swear..._

Hermione hugged him, closing her eyes to stop the tears, and also kissed his cheek. Once she had done so she took several steps back. "Goodbye," she managed to say, and without another word she disapparated from the kitchen with a sharp 'CRACK'. With widened eyes Ron glanced at Harry, who shrugged in equal puzzlement.

Once outside Hermione broke into a frantic run, tears running down her face at an alarming pace. The only sounds she could hear were the ones she was making: her gasps and small sobs; the dry sound of her shoes hitting the sidewalk... She knew it was not wise to be on the streets alone, at night, but she had a wand and could defend herself. Hermione cried as she run and run, far from that house, far from Harry and Ron, far from her past life. She touched the pocket containing the vial, checking if it was still there, and her footsteps quickened.

Soon enough she was nothing more but another shadow in the quiet street, concealed from prying eyes and questioning glances. And she kept running...

Back in Grimmauld Place, an atmosphere of uncertainty had fallen. The chess was no longer fun and the butterbeer had lost its warmness. Hermione had left an aura of sudden loss behind her, and nothing else mattered very much anymore. After a few –and feeble- attempts of getting Harry to talk, Ron stood up and ran his fingers through his hair.

"What d'you say if we pay Ginny a visit?" He suggested. Harry stopped rolling a knight around the chess board and slowly looked up at Ron.

"But she's with Hermione," he replied.

"Exactly... If we weren't able to break through Hermione, my little sister will be able to," Ron told him resolutely. After careful consideration, Harry sighed and nodded.

"You're right... Let's go." Yes, the three of them could corner Hermione and, as Ron had put it, break through the walls she had built around herself.

"Okay, let's apparate in-"

"No, let's walk," Harry cut him off as he stood up. "I don't feel like apparating, and I could use the fresh air." He explained as he walked through the kitchen door.

"I'll come with you, then," Ron retorted, following Harry through the living room and to the front door. Harry smiled at him but didn't say anything, opening the door and letting Ron step out before placing the wards and going out himself. Strangely, it had been Hermione's hug what had made him start reckoning about everything that had happened.

If she loved him, as she had said, why ignore him today? If she loved him... Why try to kill herself? Harry put his hands inside his pockets as they walked through the deserted street, frowning. What had driven her to do something as drastic as that? What had made her believe that there wasn't another solution? Maybe Harry should tell Ron about what had happened. But Ron was Hermione's ex... How would he take the news? Harry lifted his right hand to rub the bridge of his nose, and his index finger started to sting. He lifted the finger and raised his eyebrows when he saw a small and red scab there.

"What is it?" Ron asked, leaning over to see Harry's finger.

"Dunno," Harry replied with a shrug. "Nothing to be worried about, in any case..." he trailed off. His red headed friend sighed.

"Look, Harry... We'll talk to Hermione, and she'll be alright..." Harry kicked a small stone with anger.

"Why the need to hug us? She looked worried, you saw her. Worried and calm at the same time..."

"You know Hermione-"

"No, I don't know her anymore," Harry interrupted fiercely. "You haven't been living with her; you didn't have her around everyday- She's not the same person, Ron!" He exclaimed.

"Okay, I'll give you that, but... She's with Ginny now; I don't think my sister will let her commit suicide in her bathtub," Ron retorted with the ghost of a smile.

"It's not funny, Ron." Harry muttered.

"Mate, you just-"

"Ron! Harry!" A female voice called, making them both turn about and take out their wands. Nobody but them stood in the street. "Over here!" The female added, and they looked at the sidewalk opposite from them. Who other but Ginny hurriedly crossed the street to stand in front of them, looking surprised.

"What're you doing here?" Ron and Ginny asked each other at the same time.

"I was going to your house," Ginny answered, glancing at Harry with her eyebrows rise.

"We were going to yours," Ron said.

"Why?" Harry and Ginny said in unison.

"I wanted to talk to Hermione," Ginny told them, beginning to frown. Harry raised his right eyebrow at this answer.

"She told us she was going to go to _your_ house," he replied. Ginny shook her head.

"No way, she never told me anything... Draco is in his manor in Wiltshire, so I thought I could talk some things over with Hermione peacefully..." She told them. Harry's brow furrowed and Ron paled.

"Maybe... Maybe she went back to your house, Harry?" Ron questioned doubtfully. Harry glanced at him, then at Ginny, and without another word turned around and sprinted towards Grimmauld Place, leaving Ron and Ginny to run behind him in confusion. With a shaking hand Harry opened the door and entered the house like a hurricane, running from one room to another in frantic haste.

"Hermione? HERMIONE!" Harry called and called, but the answers never came. As Ginny looked for her in the third floor, Ron took over the second. Once that Harry realized that Hermione was not in the first floor he went up the stairs to the second, where he found a panting Ron, as pale as a sheet. "So? Is she here?" Harry's voice boomed through the corridors.

"No-"

"Did you check her room?"

"I was about to," Ron informed, going over to Hermione's room and carefully opened the door. Half afraid of seeing Hermione dead inside, Harry cautiously stepped in after Ron, Ginny close behind him; she turned on the lights almost fearfully... But there was nothing there. No dead Hermione... Only her freshly made bed and the black book, closed, over her desk.

"Where is she?" Ron asked out loud, kicking the floor in frustration. "There are a thousand places where she could be!" He added. Ginny bit her lip.

"What if- What if she throws herself off a bridge?" She asked barely above a whisper.

"Oh great, Ginny, that helps us a lot!" Ron snapped. Both brother and sister begun to get red in the ears, but Harry wasn't paying attention. His eyes were fixed on that black book... It had to mean _something_... Hermione was always reading it... He took one big stride and greedily went for the book, lifting it up.

"Harry? Did you find something?" Ginny immediately asked, going over to where he was. As Ron leaned over, Harry opened the book and discovered a neatly folded parchment inside. He took the paper out and stared at the book, but there was nothing written on it. Harry closed it, deciding that he would look at it later. There were more important things to worry about now. The three of them eyed the note with fright, and none of them said anything for a couple of minutes; they were so afraid of what it would say. "O- Open it, Harry," Ginny finally said with a trembling voice. Ron agreed with his head and Harry breathed in deeply, unfolding the parchment... It was Hermione's handwriting.

"Read it outloud," Ron requested in a whisper.

_I'm writing this in my office, so I can escape from prying eyes for which this letter was not written. _

_I will not try to explain why I'm doing this; you would never understand, and that's alright. I drew this over myself- I'm simply gathering what I have been sowing... No, I won't explain, but I will tell you this: I'm sorry. I'm so sorry for hurting all of you. I don't deserve you, and neither am I worthy of your friendship and trust. _

_I will as of you only one thing:_

_Remember me as I once was, not what I turned into. Remember me as the girl who laughed at Ron's jokes, the girl who loved seeing Harry catch the snitch; the bossy bookworm that loved helping her friends when they didn't finish their homework, even though she never admitted it. _

_Remember Hermione Granger. _

_Thank you for trying to save me one last time._

_Love,_

_Hermione_

Ginny was crying in some faraway place; Ron wasn't speaking. Harry's mind was blank, still staring at her words of farewell... He folded the letter again and pocketed it, letting his eyes travel around her room for any kind of clue or hint that would lead them to where she was. It was strange that his mind was not overreacting like it had when Harry saw her, agonizing in her bed. As if it was a powerful magnet, his eyes found the book again... Ron was trying to console Ginny... In a daze, Harry opened the book and intently stared at the blank pages. Maybe it worked as Riddle's diary had? His palm came into contact with the worn first page and Harry almost dropped the book when the words started writing themselves. He narrowed his eyes, waiting for the words to form; his nose was so near to the paper that it almost touched it. When he read the title of the book he frowned deeply.

"What the-?" He couldn't help but ask. "_The Veiled Mysteries_?" As the title of the book chased itself inside his brain, Harry absentmindedly turned to look at Ron and Ginny... She had calmed down a little bit... What mysteries? What mysteries were veiled?

Hold on.

_Veiled?_

Veiled...

The Veil. The Veil in the Department of Mysteries!

Harry stared, slightly open mouthed, horrified, at his two friends. He couldn't find his voice... "What? What's wrong?" Ron questioned fearfully. Harry swallowed and, as if struck by lightening, gripped Ron's shoulder tightly.

"We have to go to the Ministry. Now." Harry's voice was dangerous, low, and commanding. Ginny sniffed.

"What? Why-" Ginny asked with a runny nose. Harry stepped away from them.

"We have to go! Hermione's there!"

"Wha-"

"She's going to jump through the Veil!" Harry exclaimed, making them both jump in the air. "We have to go there, NOW!" He shouted, wiping out his wand. Neither Ginny nor Ron moved. "Why are you standing there?!" Harry spluttered. "We have to stop her!"

"Are you sure?" Ron asked. Clearly, the memories of their fifth year had not faded from his memory. Harry went red in the face at his comment.

"Fine, don't come if you don't want to. I'm going!" He spat as a response, dissaparating with a loud POP. Both Weasleys stood rooted in their spots, staring at the place where Harry had stood, and with a last glance and nod, they also dissaparated with the sound of a firing gun.

-+-

A/N: Ah! There it is! I had a huge block in this chapter again... Because I'm so anxious to get to the next chapter! Again, this chapter was going to be a lot longer, but I decided to cut it in two. I hope that you'll review to let me know what you thought of it! Bye!


	17. Nightmares of Veils

Nightmares of Veils

A/N: Hello! Thank you for the great reviews... You all make me so happy! Here's the chapter I was so anxious about... Hope you guys like it. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Um... No. Just the plot.

-+-

The only sound that broke the stillness of the place was the cluttering of metal doors opening, as a girl stumbled out of the telephone box, panting and crying. She was out of breath and sweaty from all the running, even though she had ended up apparating right in front of the 'normal' Ministry entrance. So many memories sprung from the shadows and threw themselves at her, overwhelming and vivid! Hermione leaned against the nearer wall to regain oxygen and closed her eyes, waving her hand as though scaring a fly away.

"Go away... Stop..." she whispered, trying to protect herself from the ghosts that insisted on haunting her... She couldn't stay in the Atrium any longer. Wiping her eyes with her eyes she blinked, clearing her view, and walked towards the dreaded elevator. Her shaking finger pressed the button and the door opened immediately; the shadows sneered at her, daring her to get on. Well, she did, and they laughed mockingly at her useless bravery. As she found the button with the nine on it she could almost see half of the DA standing beside her; she could remember the icy feeling in her stomach when she stood next to Harry, thinking that Sirius was in danger... The thought that Harry's nightmare had not been real; the uncertainty of what was waiting for them behind those doors.

"_Department of Mysteries._"

Silence preceded that statement. There were no more memories, no more ghosts, and no more guiltiness. A dark corridor and a black door, those were the only two things invading her mind. She was lured out of the lift by that powerful force that taunted her to find the courtroom... As though someone had pulled a string around her stomach, Hermione began to run towards the doors with a crazed look, barely noticing how the torches hanging from the walls flared every time she went pass one... She stopped dead in her tracks, staring up at the closed door, and, before she could even touch the wood it was made of, it opened as though Hermione had kicked it.

With a strangled gasp she stepped inside the circular room, which had not changed one bit since her fifth year. Hermione was not scared anymore, but the sight of the blue fire and the doors unnerved her. She closed the door that lead to the lift and closed her eyes tightly as the room begun to spin; soon the sound stopped and she opened her eyes, looking around. Which door to choose? She couldn't go trying them all- too much precious time would be wasted. Was there another way? Hermione was absolutely certain that none of her friends would find the note until tomorrow, or much later tonight, and she'd be long dead by then... But she didn't want to take anything for granted. Maybe... If she... "Courtroom?" The empty room amplified her small voice; for a couple of seconds nothing happened. Then, a door at her right silently opened. Covering her mouth, Hermione moved forwards, stepping through the doorframe... The door closed itself behind her. She was standing in the top benches, staring down at the sunken pit as her eyes got adjusted to the dim light of the place.

Hermione just stood there in silence, suddenly at loss of what to do. It was not that she already knew- It was only the realization of what she was about to do. She lowered her head as she stepped done one bench after the other like a robot, not daring to look up. After what it felt like a lifetime, her feet found no more benches, no more steps; and she let the silence envelop her as she slowly opened her eyes. Through the oceans of sorrow that streamed from her eyes, Hermione saw it.

Saw it...

None of her steps were doubtful or faltering. Whispers reached her ears clearly; telling her of things which she could not understand but were needed. Faint and faded words of comfort and guidance... Long lost voices which Hermione could recognize and wanted to hear again. Her eyes were fixated on the dais; her body moved towards it inevitably, attracted by some powerful and unavoidable force of inertia-

The voices and whispers become stronger and anxious; they meshed together and Hermione couldn't decipher what they said. They, the people in there, they were happy she was here... Someone waited to see her, even talk to her... _Someone_ in there still loved her, despite all the things she had done. Hermione managed to crack a small smile at the whispers. "I'm coming," she whispered hoarsely, and the Veil fluttered in anticipation. Hermione's trembling hand reached out to touch the stone (somewhere in the back of her mind, she remembered herself telling Harry not to it); the voices grew and grew, and the whispers became a sort of soft breeze, a powerful lullaby... And her fingers touched the dais.

The stone was freezing to the touch, and for a couple of seconds a silence so thick fell that it was almost palpable. Hermione's mouth opened but no sound came out, and her eyes widened. Her fingers wouldn't lift from the hard surface of the dais, and the Veil quivered impatiently. Beyond the fabric (if it was a fabric) lay a darkness so profound and real- it looked like the very essence of black; the lack of colour, the lack of life. Hermione's heart beat in her throat, and snakes started moving inside her stomach.

With tremendous effort to tear her sight from that blackness, Hermione looked down at herself. She took her wand out of her back pocket and, with some effort, released her other hand from the magnetic force of the dais to retrieve the vial from her other pocket. With the same hand she held her wand she ripped out the small badge the lift had given her, letting it fall to the floor. Hermione placed her wand on the floor and uncorked the vial with quivering fingers. Feeling nothing but hollowness inside, Hermione bent down to retrieve her wand. She didn't know if it was the Veil or herself, but she wanted to see the darkness that rested beyond the Veil again. Hermione closed her eyes as she pointed her wand at herself, and breathed in deeply.

"_Ego mutare meus corpus ob vestrum_," she recited emotionlessly, in a quiet yet booming voice. The whispers coming from the Veil did not disturb her anymore... From the tip of her wand a white substance crawled out, momentarily encasing Hermione in a warm yet cold mist which faded seconds after it had appeared. She reopened her eyes and let her wand drop to the floor; she sighed longingly and, tightly clutching the vial, drank the potion inside in one huge gulp.

The vial fell to the floor and broke into a dozen shards which flew in every direction, glistening innocently in the cold light of the torches.

-

Two loud pops made Harry turn around quickly, wand out, its tip alight. A red eyed Ginny and a white Ron stared at him, also taking their wand out quickly. Why, they did not know... Maybe, the memories that this place brought, at this time of night, had left permanent scars in them. The three nodded at each other in silence and ran towards the elevator; Ron pressed the button and they waited... Waited... The door opened and they stepped inside hastily, Harry started hammering the number nine and cursed under his breathe at the slowness of the closing doors. The elevator rattled downwards and Harry's anxiousness heightened to indescribable heights.

_Please, Hermione... Let me find her. Please, let us find her before she does something stupid..._

The lift came to a halt and the doors opened again, revealing that wretched corridor. The torches burned peacefully, hanging from the walls. "Come on!" Harry urged, running out of the elevator with Ron and Ginny behind him.

"Hermione!" Ginny suddenly screeched as they ran, "Hermione, don't do anything!" The passageway amplified her plead but did not communicate it. Harry pushed the black door open.

"Hermione??" He called. "Hermione, stop!" He begged, looking around widely, expecting Hermione to come through one of the dozen doors, crying and scared, but _alive._ Maybe she would hear their voices... The black door closed and the room spun around them with that amazing speed, the blue fire momentarily blinding him.

"Which one? Which one?" Ron desperately murmured, glancing at each of the doors. "Hermione, where are you?" He tried.

"The courtroom!" Harry bellowed, staring at all directions, waiting for a door to open. "There!" He exclaimed, pointing just behind them. Ron and Ginny scrambled inside, again shouting Hermione's name. When Harry entered, the memories almost made him physically recoil from that place. He did not want to be there, he wanted to go away; he didn't want Hermione to be in there... And then, as if someone had thrown cold water down his neck, realization dawned down on him.

_She wasn't there._ But that could only mean... It could only... No... No. Please, no...

"Her- Hermione?" Ginny squeaked as she went down the benches, probably imaging that her friend was hiding. Below them, on the dais, the Veil jittered. Harry and Ron followed Ginny down towards the pit without a word, too scared to speak... Too empty to form a coherent phrase. Harry let his eyes wander through the room, feeling slightly light headed... It was hard to believe that he was actually there, in that place, staring at the dais... Ron circled the Veil and shook his head, his eyes looking strangely bloodshot. Harry gazed at Ginny bending over to lift something, and started sobbing again. Harry stepped closer to her and caught sight of what she was holding.

Hermione's wand.

His view became slightly blurry, but he wasn't crying. His heart had stopped beating, but he wasn't dead. His body was heavy and tired, but he was not sleepy... His feet faltered and he stumbled to his side, feeling slightly drunk. Ginny's cries were like buzzes in his ears, and Ron's mouth was moving in slow motion... Harry tried to speak, but his voice was lost... He stretched out his arms, trying to take hold of something to keep his balance, but his miscalculated and he heavily fell, knees first, on the hard floor, feeling the coldness of the stone on his cheek.

"Haaaarry?" A carrying voice asked. "Haaaarry..." His mouth opened again, but the only sound that came out was a hoarse gasp accompanied by a silent, tearless sob.

"Harry, mate!" Ron said through the tears that fell from his own eyes. He kneeled down and shook his friend from the shoulders. Harry was shaking... "Ginny, help me!" He added, looking up at his sister, who rushed next to his brother's side.

"He's- He's in shock," she croaked fearfully. But before either of them could utter another word, Harry opened his eyes and looked up at them. His tears had left a small puddle of water on the floor.

He started laughing.

Ron and Ginny widened their eyes at his maniacal laughter, growing even more scared than before. Harry sprung up, doubling over with laughter, and stepped away from them.

"Harry-"

"She- Hermione- She told me she loved me!" Harry confessed in a high pitched voice, out of air. "She told me she loved me- And then she threw herself through the Veil!" He added, crying and laughing at the same time.

To say that the very sight of him like this was pathetically heartbreaking was an understatement.

"Harry!" Ginny sobbed. "You're scaring us!" But Harry paid no heed to her and continued laughing hysterically.

"Are you two going to kill yourselves, too?" Harry asked them, almost giggling. "Maybe the three of us should jump, too!" He told them. Ron's face was by this point as white as milk.

"Calm down-"

"Yeah, you two are also going to leave me... I know!" He exclaimed, his voice becoming an echo in the room. "Why should I care? Sirius, Dumbledore, Hermione! They're all dead now!" He added, laughing louder. Ginny stepped forwards, trembling.

"I'm sorry, Harry." And without further ado she slapped him hard on the face, making him stumble backwards. He touched his now red cheek and blinked, looking at them as if he was seeing them for the first time. His lower lip was trembling. Silence took hold of them as Harry registered what had just happened... He let his body drop unceremoniously to the floor, and just sat there without doing anything for a while, while the tears rolled down his cheeks. Ginny hugged Ron, still sobbing.

And the Veil swayed back and forth endlessly...

-

They didn't and couldn't know what she did it. What drove her to end her life. There were too many lost pieces in this puzzle; pieces which she alone had the power to grab, rearrange, and understand. They only knew that it involved Sirius Black and Hermione Granger, but for the life of them they couldn't see the connection; they couldn't find the pieces that united those two persons... They had yet to discover the bridge which Hermione had crossed.

There were only nightmares of Veils and inscrutable darkness.

And yet, unbeknownst to them, this was not the end. This was only the beginning...

-+-

A/N: Well, there you go! Ah! I loved writing this chapter. Which, I may point out, is not nearly the last one! I'd love to hear what you think of this so far... So don't forget to leave a review! On the other hand, I'm feeling very happy with the fact that this story has been hit 7030 times. Wow! I feel like I should thank you. Anyway... Hope you liked it. Until next chapter! Bye!


	18. Recollections

Recollections

A/N: Hello! Wow, those were some amazing reviews! I'm so thrilled you're all liking this so much... So thank you! Writing the beginning of this chapter got me slightly depressed... But it got better. I intended to wait a little bit more until I posted this chapter, but you guys made me so happy that as soon as I had it ready, well, here it is. Your reviews really fuel me. So, hoping you like it, and without further ado... Let the reading commence!

Disclaimer: You know, writing fanfiction is like owning them. But, alas, I don't own. Just the plot.

"_Could it be any harder to say goodbye and without you?  
Could it be any harder to watch you go, to face what's true?  
If I only had one more day  
A quick fix of hope is what I'm needing  
And how I wish that I could turn back the hours  
But I know I just don't have the power..._

_And I wish you didn't go  
I wish you didn't go, I wish you didn't go away  
To touch you again,  
With life in your hands..."_

"_**Could it be any Harder"- The Calling.**_

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

**_September 30th._**

_I've never felt this way before. I mean, I have, but not from this perspective, this awful perspective. Hermione is dead, she really is. Seeing her wand on the floor broke my heart, my already broken heart. I saw my friends crying, wailing, looking away. I knew that they still couldn't believe it. I see Harry. He's serious, he hasn't spoken a word. He's in pain... And I don't know what to do, what to tell him. How to bring up the subject? How to put down in words how I feel? When we found out, we were all destroyed (and even now, 'destroyed' is an understatement)... I was the first one to recover, to stop crying; maybe that saying about 'what doesn't kill you makes you stronger' is true. I still can't believe she has died- I keep thinking that once I enter the Grimmauld Place Hermione will be there, talking to Harry, asking me when I am planning to marry Luna._

_She'll never ask me again. _

_Everything seems so vain now, so little, and so devoid of meaning. I was going to get to work now when I thought about Hermione and felt how insignificant my work is. I don't even now what more to write now... There are so many things to be written down that can't be. This kind of things makes people realize how selfish they can be, and how ignorant we are when we say things like 'Life sucks'. I remember my past and I feel ashamed of myself when I said 'life sucks' just because I had double Potions. _

_Like I said, death and though stuff usually makes us stronger. But you know what? If the death of Hermione makes Harry, my sister, Luna, and me, and anybody else who loved her strong, then I for one prefer to be the weakest bloody person on this earth._

Ron rubbed the bridge of his nose and let the quill fall from his fingers, staring at what he had just written. His mind was completely blank.

They didn't talk about it anymore. They couldn't, yet. No one could get over the loss and the guilt. The concept of suicide is a nasty one. What could they have done to make it better? How could they have helped Hermione? When did they go wrong? Why didn't she ask for help? Not even the newspapers talked about it... The Daily Prophet had published an article about Hermione's death, but since everyone who knew her had adamantly refused to say _how_ she had died, it was a short one. Harry and Ron still received letters that told them how sorry they were, and how hard it must've been. They were right.

Ginny cried all the time. She had told them that she should have known something like this was coming; because Hermione had not wanted Ginny to buy her the maid of honor dress. Malfoy did his best to console her, and everyone was surprised when he told them that Hermione's loss was a terrible one. Damn, even Draco Malfoy had cared for Hermione at some level. Simply put, everyone was suffering what Hermione herself had called 'survivor guilt'.

But now, Harry... Harry was a wreck. They had every reason in the world to be worried about him. It had been ten days since Hermione had taken her life, and he still wasn't talking. Sometimes he showed up with bloodshot eyes, but that was the only sign that he was mourning. Everyone who knew him enough could imagine what he was feeling- What if they had arrived two minutes earlier to the Ministry; what if they had made her stay instead of letting her 'go over to Ginny's'... If only's, what if's And should we even add the fact that Hermione had told Harry she loved him the night before she killed herself? Not only he was guilt ridden because it was a natural reaction to suicide, but he had that weight upon his shoulders, too. No one knew how to help him, but they tried. They tried...

-

**_October, 19th- The Anniversary._**

"_One month..." One month? One month! I can't believe this... Has it really been 30, 31 days since Hermione passed away? It can't be- It has felt as if it was one week ago. My brother went over to Harry's. No one thinks it's wise to leave him alone with his memories and his remorse anymore; together they went to the Ministry of Magic, and to the courtroom. I personally think that it's useless, and I'm sure they think so too, but there is nothing else they can do. There is no body, and thus no tomb, in which they can place flowers or cry over. I wanted to tell Ron something, but I didn't know how to put it down in words. _

_I wanted to say "Hello, Hermione. I hope you're all right." But how to tell my brother that? "Er... Give her my regards." No, I can't. It can't be done. I wanted to go, but it felt as if I was intruding on my brother's and Harry's privacy. I wanted to say Hello. Ask her how she is doing. I know she can't answer me back, but I just can't help it. I keep waiting for Hermione to burst in through a door, telling us that it was just a joke. A sick joke, but a joke. But she will never return, will she? Merlin... I feel so helpless and powerless. I wish Hermione was still here. Hello, Hermione. How are you doing? I hope that you're ok, wherever you are. I have to say goodbye... Have a hug... I miss you._

Ginny wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and turned to look at her now sleeping husband, sighing deeply. Her wedding had been four days ago, and it hadn't been as festive as she had always wished it would be. Yes, they had had a marvelous time- But Hermione had been missing. She had missed seeing Ron hugging Draco, threatening to break his throat if he ever hurt his little sister; she had missed seeing Harry smile for the first time in more than thirty days; she had missed dancing and getting slightly drunk in the reception.

Ginny stared at the piece of parchment she had in front of her and her eyes watered again. Would things ever go back to the way they were, without Hermione?

"What're you doing up?" A drawling and sleepy voice startled her. Ginny turned around quickly to see Draco sitting up on their bed, yawning. She smiled weakly and went over to Draco, lying next to him on the bed. "You're crying," he whispered with some concern once she was close enough.

"I miss her," Ginny whispered back, looking away. Draco sighed and kissed her forehead, hugging her.

"I know."

-

**_November, 20th._**

_She can't be dead... She can't be. I can't take it in. I think about this and I simply... Why isn't she here anymore? Why? Where is the answer for that stupid question? I just want one answer. One reason. One way to accept this. _

_But there isn't any._

_I wish she could just return for one day. One hour. Enough to tell her how much I miss her and love her... Enough to hug her and have that last memory... Enough to hear her, to see her, to laugh with her once again... To tell her how much I cried when I read the article they published about her death, to tell her how Ron doesn't complain about having to do a lot of work to do anymore, because she always reprimanded him for being lazy; to tell her how Ginny and Draco mentioned her at their wedding; to tell her that Dobby and Winky had convinced some of the domestic elves to get paid and join S.P.E.W... All those little things that she cared so much about._

Harry blinked quickly, trying to clear his view, but gave up on it. He was alone in Grimmauld Place, sitting in the living room. Two of the persons that had lived there had died the very same way... Why had they left him? Why weren't they there anymore, breaking the silence with their words?

Hermione's room was now locked, and he would not enter there under any circumstance. Remus had been the one that volunteered to enter and leave Hermione's wand there, along with the small Ministry badge they had found near the dais. It read 'rescue mission'; the irony was overwhelming. After that, Hermione's room had become out of bounds for everyone. Harry even changed floors so he didn't have to get even near it anymore.

He felt as though someone had slashed his chest open to rip out his heart, and the wound had not closed yet. Winter was coming at an increasing speed... Almost three months from her death? It still felt surreal; it still felt unnatural, immoral... Irrational. Hermione had chosen to turn away from life. Why? Why, why, why, the only question that ran through his head.

Harry stood up from the couch he was in, feeling the tears running down his throat, and made for the stairs in silence.

-+-

It was chilly, it was windy, and it was cloudy. All the ingredients for the concoction of a very depressing day. At the Ministry the Christmas decorations were already in their place, being December 16th. In Grimmauld Place, Harry had not even put a single garland. This would be a very, very lonely Christmas. Currently, Harry was sitting next to Ron in their Auror office, and they weren't talking. Ron was doing some report and Harry was absentmindedly doing doodles on a clean parchment, lost in some far away universe.

"So, mate... Are you coming to the Burrow for Christmas dinner?" Ron's question lingered in the air for a while, unanswered, as Harry continued to trace H's all over the parchment and crossing them out harshly. Ron decided not to ask him about this. "Harry," he called again. His friend gave a non committal jerk of the head.

"I don't know," he finally said, frowning at an enormous H he had drawn. He didn't want to have a Christmas without Hermione; he didn't want to sort through his presents to find that hers wasn't in the pile. Ron clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth.

"You need to get out; distract yourself... Besides, mum will go ballistic if you aren't there," Ron replied, patting him on the shoulder. Harry's gaze hardened and he crossed out yet another H roughly.

"I'll think about it, okay?" He said, finally ripping the parchment as he traced another H. Ron raised his eyebrows as Harry crumpled the parchment and then tossed it towards the door. "Stupid piece of paper," he added in a mutter.

"Um, Harry... Are you alright?"

"Never been better," he snarled. Ron raised his right eyebrow but contented himself with letting out a sigh, knowing better that to press him. When Harry got pissed off, Dark Lords tended to die. And, however fortunate the fact that there weren't any Dark Lords around, Ron decided not to press his luck any further.

-

"Oh, Harry, it's so good to see you!"

"Ron convinced me to come."

"Well, good for you. You needed to get out of that house. Have you been eating at all?" Molly asked him, eyeing him critically. Harry forced a smile and nodded. He had had nothing better to do, so after they left work, Ron had talked him into visiting the Burrow. Molly shoved him out of the kitchen and Harry walked towards the garden, spotting Fred, George and Ron sitting together, talking cheerfully as they drank beer. With a smile desperately trying to show on his face, Harry walked over to them and sat next to Ron on the grass.

"Harry, mate," the twins greeted him. "Care for a beer?" Harry agreed with his head and Ron handed him one.

"What were you talking about?" He wanted to know.

"We've been offered to open a joke shop across the pond," Fred replied. Harry grinned.

"That's great. You'll do it?" He asked, taking a sip from his beer.

"We don't know yet, but it's almost a definite yes," George told him.

"So you'll have to move there or what?" Ron suddenly asked. He was glad Harry had decided to join them; heck, he was even grinning!

"Nah, we're not. So, Ron... What date have you chosen?" Fred asked him. Ron frowned at this question, and Harry was just as perplexed at him.

"A date? What date?" Ron wanted to know.

"For your wedding with Luna, dolt," Fred responded, hitting Ron on the back of his head. Harry half smiled at this, and nearly began laughing when Ron choked on his beer.

"Er- We- Um-" Ron tried to say as he coughed; George began hitting his back.

"We haven't talked about it yet," a dreamy voice behind Harry said, surprising them. Luna was there, smiling. Ginny was walking towards them.

"Why did you sneak up on us like that??" Ron demanded once he had cleared his throat. Luna shrugged and sat down between Ron and Harry, while Ginny sat between her twin brothers.

"So no marriage talks yet?" Ginny said, and both Luna and Ron shook their heads no.

"We don't think we're ready for it, yet," Luna began, putting her arm around Ron's. "I remember Hermione was always-" Luna stopped talking abruptly at Harry's look and covered her mouth with her hand, looking distinctly horrified.

A pregnant silence welcomed that comment, as Harry suddenly drained the whole bottle of beer and the rest looked sadly at each other.

"I'm sorry," Luna mouthed to Ron, looking ashamed. He shook his head again and gazed at Harry, who was now staring at the door that lead to the house. It couldn't have been more obvious that he wanted to leave. As soon as he could, I might add.

"Harry," Ginny said, breaking the silence, "Ron told me that you haven't decorated your house for Christmas." At these comments Ron cast a meaningful glance at her and began shaking his head quickly, gesturing her to be quiet.

"He's right," Harry muttered, reluctantly looking back at the group.

"Would you like us to do it?" Luna asked, earning a smile from Ginny. "We could go right now," she suggested. Harry stared at her and Ginny with an indifferent look, and in the end he shrugged.

"Whatever fits your fancy," he replied. Ginny beamed and stood up, beckoning Luna to do the same, and they waited for Harry to do the same. "I'll come later... You two go ahead. You know where everything is placed," he told them tiredly. What was it with everyone trying to convince him that he should be happy because it was Christmas time? Ginny seemed disappointed, but she quickly recovered.

"Okay then. Don't worry, it'll look beautiful," she stated with a smile before turning around and starting to walk towards her house with Luna. Ron, Fred and George gazed at each other with equal puzzled looks.

"So... How's Puddlemore United doing these days?" Ron asked no one in particular after clearing his throat. He could see Harry cracking a small smile of gratefulness at him.

-

Half an hour had passed since Ginny and Luna had gone to Grimmauld Place, and the Quidditch talk seemed to do Harry some good. He had been heatedly arguing Ron about the Chudley Cannons as the twins laughed at Ron's angry face when a crash coming from the kitchen was heard, followed by some colorful vocabulary that certainly didn't come out of Molly's mouth often.

"What the hell?" Fred asked, as the four of them craned their necks towards the door that communicated the garden to the kitchen. Another crash was heard, followed by some screams. A great commotion was taking place in there, it seemed.

"Let's go check," Ron said urgently, standing up. Harry and the twins followed suit, and as they made their way to the house, Ginny came out of the door. She was whiter than a ghost, and her hair was slightly frizzy. When she saw Harry, her eyes nearly popped out of their sockets.

"Harry, Harry!" She shrieked, running over to where they were, nearly tripping twice in the process. She was breathless. In the doorframe, Molly was clutching a handkerchief to her mouth, and looked as though she was about to faint. "Oh, Harry!" she exclaimed, coming to a halt in front of him.

"Ginny, what-" He began, but Ginny shook her head quickly.

"He's- Luna and I had arrived- He was-" She panted, shaking all over. "Luna- She stayed- I came to tell you- Harry!"

"Ginny, for Merlin's sake, calm down!" Ron suddenly ordered. Fred and George were now tending to Mrs. Weasley, who also seemed incapable of forming an entire phrase. "What's wrong?" Ginny gazed at her brother for one second and tears brimmed in her eyes, starting to rock back and forth in a very Winky- like manner.

"Is Luna alright? Were you robbed or attacked?" Harry tried, and Ginny denied his suggestions again.

"Ginny! Would you please tell us?!" Ron exclaimed, getting impatient and scared with this nonsense. His sister suddenly reached out and gripped the front of Harry's robes tightly.

"He's- Harry, he came back!" The fright in her voice made both Ron and Harry raise their eyebrows; the first option that popped into Harry's mind was Voldemort. But Voldemort was dead, Harry had killed him... He couldn't have returned!

"Voldemort?" Ron asked in a terrified whisper. Ginny looked close to a seizure of some kind, and she began shaking Harry back and forth violently with her hands. She was shaking him with such force that Harry was having the impression that his head would fall off any second now.

"SIRIUS, HARRY!" Ginny ended up screeching. "HE'S ALIVE- GRIMMAULD PLACE- ALIVE!!"

-+-

A/N: Gasp! What? What the hell?! Wasn't Sirius dead? How?! That last sentence was surely a mistake? Hehe... Writing this chapter was a blast, I must admit... I hope you'll review and let me know what you think of this turn of events! Until next chapter... Bye!


	19. The Connection

The connection

A/N: Hello there! Thank you for those AMAZING reviews! I'm so happy that I can hardly believe you guys like this so much. I hope you like this chapter... Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Nope, I don't own them. Just the plot.

-+-

After that statement, you could've heard a cricket sneeze. Ron was gazing at his sister sadly, as though she had finally cracked; Fred, George and Molly silently stared at them. Ginny had stopped shaking Harry, whose gaze turned hard. He grabbed Ginny's hands and pried them off his robes, in the process pushing her backwards.

"Sirius is dead." He finally spoke in a low voice; Ginny shook her head.

"He's not, he's not- He's alive!" She exclaimed, trying to step closer to Harry, but he kept a firm hold on her wrists, stopping her from doing so.

"He fell through the Veil. He can't come back!" Harry retorted loudly. What was this nonsense? This time, Ginny really began crying.

"But he did, Harry, he did!" She wailed. Harry let go of her wrists as if burnt by them, stepping backwards. Angriness was itched in every line of his face.

"Is this your idea of a joke, Ginny?" He wanted to know. "Because it's not funny." His fists were clenched, the knuckles were white; his lips were tense, and he was using all of his self control to stop his body from shaking in outrage and disbelief. Next they would be telling him that Hermione was alive, too!

"I wouldn't joke about this! Please, believe me!" Ginny retorted. For the first time since she and Harry started arguing, Ron spoke.

"Calm down, both of you. Sis, I love you and all, but either you're indeed pulling a very morbid joke, or you're gone mental." At this Ginny got red in the face, and she turned around to glare at him.

"I knew you'd take his side!" She shouted, pointing at him.

"You're telling us that a man who has been dead for four years is suddenly alive again! What kind of reaction were you expecting?!" Ron spat back, his ears as red as his hair.

"Just come with me," Ginny begged them both. "Come with me to Grimmauld Place." Ron gazed at Harry, who glanced back at him and then at her.

"Merlin help me if you're lying, Ginny," Harry growled, but she smiled in triumph.

"Quick! Let's go to the apparation point, then!" She exclaimed, whipping around and running to the house; she halted at the sight of her mother and twin brothers. "I'd invite you to come, but Harry needs to see this alone," she told them barely above a whisper.

"Honey- Nothing can't revive the dead-"

"Yeah, I've been told before." Ginny cut her mother off; again directing her attention to Harry and his brother; they were still talking and had not moved from their spot. "Are you two coming or not?!" She called, putting her hands on her hips. Back in the yard, Ron sighed.

"I don't know what has gotten into her," he said. "She has been acting funny since... Well- You know. Hermione..." Ron bit his lower lip when he saw his friend's stiffness; his face could've been made of stone.

"I mean what I said," Harry finally broke the silence, ignoring the comment about Hermione's death. "If she's lying, Ron..."

"I know. If that is the case, she'll deserve it."

--

Snow had started to fall; by the time they had apparated near Grimmauld Place Ginny was growing restless again; Ron was beginning to get impatient too, and Harry was torn between believing what Ginny was saying or simply cursing her to oblivion. What if he grew hopeful and then it was all a lie? A delusion? What to do with his feelings, then? He remembered how he had felt in his fifth year and he involuntarily shivered.

They didn't talk as they hurried through the street towards Harry's home, unless we count Ginny's frantic muttering and glares for them to hurry up. The wind pushed them backwards, mutely imploring them to turn back, but they didn't. When Grimmauld Place came into sight, Harry had the sudden urge to turn around and leave...

"Hurry up!" Ginny barked, already standing on the doorsteps of the house. As Ron and Harry came to stand behind her, out of breath, Ginny knocked on the door loudly. As they waited vapour came out of their mouths, staring at the door apprehensively. What should they expect? What would they find behind those doors? At last they heard footsteps inside, and the doorknob turned to reveal a Luna not even Ron had seen before: she was actually looking scared and unsure; her eyes seemingly bigger.

"What took you so long?" Luna demanded in a booming voice that made Ron's jaw to fall slightly open; Harry raised his eyebrows. Could this really be true? Could he believe that his godfather was indeed... alive in there? Luna turned to gaze at him and only then did she notice how pale she looked. "Come in," she added in a much softer tone, stepping aside so they could enter. When they did, they saw some smashed Christmas bulbs at the foot of the stairs. Some garlands had been hung in the living room. A silence fell above them, as if they wanted to wallow in the uncertainty and shock of the situation.

"Well, come on," Ginny's voice brought Harry out of his reverie. He blinked as he looked at her, frowning.

"Where to?" He asked, momentarily lost. For a couple of seconds he wondered what they were doing here.

"I'll imagine you want to see him," Luna replied gently. Harry felt how his stomach was made a knot, and his throat was suddenly quite dry. Did he? Did he want to see Sirius? Yes, of course. But... He was dead... He couldn't be alive... Harry saw Luna's hand stretched before him and he gulped, taking it. His hand was shaking... Luna smiled reassuringly at him at started guiding him towards the stairs, pass the broken bulbs, and up the steps they went; Ron and Ginny behind them. One by one, their footsteps echoed in the silent house; Harry had the strange sensation that when they reached the second floor, he was years and years older.

"We moved him to his room," someone's voice –it sounded like Ginny's- reached his ears; he felt his head going up and down, but didn't say anything. The last door of the hallway was ajar... He felt slightly nauseated; he had felt the same in his first year, when he was about to play his first Quidditch match. Harry halted in front of the door, for he simply didn't want to go in there. His body refused to move- Sirius had slept in there, Hermione always entered... No, no, no. Luna tugged on his hand, but he didn't bulge.

"C'mon, Harry," Ginny told him, but he didn't pay attention. No, he didn't want to go in there. Never. It brought too many memories of two people he had loved and had left him. _But one has returned,_ a small voice inside told him. Should he believe that voice? Did he dare to think that Sirius was now breathing again?

"I won't." He finally replied, fixedly staring at the door. He felt a hand on his shoulder and turned around to see Ron there, silent, and nodding. Harry understood the message; Ron knew how he was feeling, and they wouldn't abandon him. Harry closed his eyes tightly and moved to open the door softly, afraid of what he was –or was not- going to see in that room.

There he was... Fast asleep on his bed... He was there. Harry could see him, yes, he could. No one was saying anything, waiting for the reaction, whatever that would be. He could almost feel all trace of colour leaving his face when he saw his godfather in the bed. Was he real? Was it not a ghost? His breathing was irregular but slow as he approached the bed cautiously, as though afraid that any sudden move would make Sirius fade into the air. With every muscle painfully tense and his eyes wide as saucers he stood on the side of the bed, staring down at the face Harry had thought he'd never see again.

He looked almost exactly the same than when he had fallen into the Veil... And still, Sirius looked younger... Harry's frightened gaze landed on Ginny, who was tear eyed, and on Ron and Luna; his read headed friend's arm was around Luna's shoulders, smiling at him with pent up emotion. Harry's eyes again fell on his godfather, and he raised his shaking hand in hopes of touching him, wanting to see if he was meat and bones, and not just a dream. His green eyes became misty as he saw his own hand about to touch the figure on the bed... The quivering fingers carefully rested on Sirius's temple.

_He was real._

Harry retrieved his hand as if the skin had burnt it and hid his face from his friends, too shocked and flabbergasted to think of anything decent to say. The situation was hard to swallow. How had Sirius returned? Why now, and not before? But he was alive. His godfather was alive again... Alive, alive, alive; the word repeated itself so many times inside his head that it lost sense and meaning... He needed to breathe.

Harry turned around and, pushing everyone aside, left the room to sit on the hallway, against the wall. His hands went to his hair and his knees momentarily concealed his face as tears began to fall. It was something both embarrassing and amazing that he had spent most of his days crying for the past three months. After a few minutes which felt like a lifetime, he heard someone sitting next and in front of him. He couldn't look up; he didn't want to.

"Harry," Ginny spoke next to him. "It's alright. He's alive; he'll get well," she tried to comfort him. He nodded but still didn't speak, consumed by whatever he was feeling, trying to breathe and sob at the same time... But he only shed tears.

"He apparently passed out at the top of the stairs," Luna spoke in front of him. "We at first thought he was a burglar or something... He was already unconscious," she added barely above a whisper.

"We didn't know what to do," Ginny told him with an oddly strangled voice. "We were so scared... We honestly thought we were crazy... Stop crying... You're breaking my heart," she added, hugging him. Harry didn't return the embrace, still unable to articulate a single word, but finally looked up at them.

"Are you alright?" Ron asked with a serious voice; Harry shook his head.

"I'm happy," he croaked. "But- I don't understand..." His voice died down at this, and he wiped his eyes with the back of his hand quickly. "I'm sorry," he muttered.

"No one's blaming you," Luna told him quietly. "We should tell Lupin..."

"I'll tell him," Ron volunteered, standing up. "Maybe he'll be able to tell us something."

"Use the chimney," Harry said, staring at the floor again. Once he was gone, neither of them spoke anymore... Harry stood up and strode towards Sirius's room again. Yes, he was still there... Neither Ginny nor Luna followed him; maybe they already knew that he wanted some time alone with his godfather. Inside of him a hurricane of emotions began to turn at the sight... Harry didn't speak; he didn't _need_ to speak.

He just wanted Sirius to open his eyes.

-

Lupin's reaction was very close to Harry's, with the exception of the tears. He simply had looked as though he had been close to fainting, but he didn't. At the moment he was sitting next to Tonks in the living room, as Harry, Ron, Ginny and Luna shared the unnerving silence. No one knew what to think or say. They were all happy, of course, but that still didn't mean that everything was okay. Dead people _couldn't_ return to life just like that.

"So... What do you reckon?" Ron was the first to ask, looking around, waiting for the answer to the question they all had in their heads. Lupin shook his head and rubbed his eyes.

"I can't see how he came back," he said. "There must be something... A connection..." He trailed off. Harry looked up from his hands with a frown.

"A connection to what?"

"Hermione." Luna stated clearly, making the air seem thicker than before. Everyone turned to stare at her, puzzled.

"What does she have to do with this?" Ginny asked, raising her eyebrows. Luna was beginning to return to her old self; she looked dreamy again.

"Well, it's a rare coincidence, isn't it?" She started with a trace of cheerfulness. "Sirius fell through the Veil four years ago, and he comes to life three months after Hermione's death..."

"But that's nonsense," Tonks said with her lips pursed. "Many people were thrown through the Veil... No one came back," she told them.

"That's why there must be something," Ron said. As the words left his lips, Harry jumped next to him on the couch. His eyes sported a crazed look, as if he had just seen something die in front of him.

"What is it?" Ron asked, surprised. Harry didn't answer at first.

"Harry," Lupin called, slightly leaning in. Harry's face was pale again, and his hands firmly gripped the fabric of his pants.

"The book," he muttered at last. "The book!"

"What book?" Ginny wanted to know. Harry's hands again went up his hair.

"How could we not see it?" He asked himself. "It's there. It's that black book!" The rest of the people around him shared puzzled looks, wondering what he was talking about... He sounded like Kreacher.

"What book?" Ron asked this time, a little bit more forcefully. Harry hit the coffee table with his fist and suddenly stood up.

"How could we be so stupid? The book Hermione had! _The Veiled Mysteries_!"

-+-

A/N: Well, there you go. I'll admit that this was a very hard chapter to write, because I wanted to keep it real... If you think that I went overboard, please don't hesitate in telling me! (just be nice) There are so many things that I want you guys to read. I hope you like this, and don't forget to leave a review to let me know what you think! Bye!


	20. A dreadful Truth

A dreadful truth

A/N: Hello there! As usual, I thank you for those awesome reviews! You guys rock. Well, the day is cold and rainy, I have coffee with me, and I'm suffering from two moods: I'm happy because I feel like writing, and I'm utterly depressed because Equus is already being represented in West End, London; and I don't even live in the same continent, so I'll never get to see it. Pathetic, isn't it? So I hope you'll like this chapter. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Only the plot, and that's enough for me.

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"What are you talking about?" Tonks was the first to ask. Harry rubbed his face with his hands in frustration.

"The book... That's how I figured out that Hermione was going to jump through the Veil," he muttered. Ginny gasped.

"Her suicide note was inside of it!" She breathed, making Harry grunt. Did they have to talk about that note? Lupin frowned.

"Anyone care to explain this for those that weren't there?" He questioned, looking at them sternly.

"It was in her room," Ron replied tiredly; he really didn't want to remember that terrible night. "The book was over her desk... Harry saw it and opened it, took out the note... After we had read it, he opened the book again and told us that she had gone to the Ministry..." He trailed off, and then he turned around to stare at Harry. "Now that you mention it... I used to wonder how you knew where to go..."

"Yeah," Harry retorted, uncovering his face. "I've just remembered..."

"Well, what are you waiting for?" Luna suddenly spoke. "Bring that book here!" Harry glanced at her and then slowly nodded, turning around and going to the stairs hastily. Could it be? Could it all be in that book? A door full of answers had just been opened for them, and Harry hoped that, for the sake of their sanities, the answers that could possibly be provided would be enough for the thousand questions they all had. Sooner of what he would've wanted he found himself on the second floor, where he encountered a problem much greater and horrifying that any enthusiasm that had possessed him:

Hermione's bedroom door.

Harry stopped dead in his tracks, staring at that piece of wood standing in front of him. He had not _looked_ at that door for nearly four months... Inside, what would he find? Hermione's wand, her clothes, her books, her stuff for work... Pieces, debris of her life. The room surely smelt like her still... Harry gulped and put his hand on the doorknob, ready to cast the spell to reopen the room, and yet he couldn't. He couldn't bring himself to pronounce the _Finite Incantatem. _How hard could it be for the air to pass through his vocal cords, enabling him to speak, and to use a minimum proportion of strength to push a door open? How hard could it be? Not very much so, certainly... But right now, he'd rather take his chances with good old Voldy again.

And so his hand left the doorknob, and the door remained firmly closed as Harry whipped around and retreated to the stairs again, suddenly feeling older. He wasn't strong enough for that room, not yet. He hoped that they would understand how he felt... Because he didn't. When Harry reappeared in the living room everyone looked up at him expectantly, and at the sigh of his empty hands their looks went from expectancy to disappointment.

"Wasn't the book there, Harry?" Lupin asked him gently. It was quite probable that Harry had not even entered the room, and Lupin knew better than to press him. Harry would come around when he was ready.

"I think we should wait." Harry retorted barely above a whisper.

"For what?" Ginny wanted to know. Harry turned to glance at her with an impassive semblance.

"For Sirius to wake up," he responded calmly, trying to hide any kind of emotion that would give away how he was really feeling. "Maybe it's not what we're thinking of. Maybe, he'll be able to tell us," he added before any of them could ask anything.

"I think you're right, Harry," Tonks told him, smiling slightly. "We couldn't ask for a better source for what's behind the Veil than my cousin."

-+-

He was lying on something solid, he was no longer floating. He felt immensely heavy... Nothing hurt, but he didn't feel exactly okay. Sirius's head started spinning when he opened his eyes; almost as though he had a vicious hangover. The darkness that usually revolved around him wasn't there anymore- he found himself in a strangely familiar room... A room! Sirius opened his mouth to speak, as he recalled what had happened to him, and found himself slightly awed with the fact of breathing oxygen again.

"Harry," he croaked with a wheezing voice. It felt so strange to be able to hear his voice, and even more to use it. A sound like a chair roughly moving came from his side, and a face hovered above his. It took a few seconds for Sirius to bring it to focus.

"Sirius? Are you conscious?" Lupin asked excitedly, grinning; the very sight of his best friend awake was enough for him to create a Patronus. "Harry's at work- I'll tell him you're awake," he added without further ado, and his face disappeared from view. Sirius closed his eyes tiredly; it was hard to get used to gravity again. Ten minutes or ten hours could have easily passed before he heard anything again; a loud popping sound and someone hastily going up the old staircases and running towards his old bedroom... Soon enough the face Sirius had yearned to see for four years came into view, and he couldn't help but to smile widely. Lily's eyes stared at him from above, both shocked and happy looking.

"S- Sirius?" Harry asked slowly, slightly breathless. He couldn't believe it; he was staring at his godfather... A person Harry thought had lost forever, and here he was, smiling at him again. This was stuff of dreams, and yet it was all real.

"Potter," Sirius greeted him back toilsomely. Lupin's face bobbed into view, too, and the shade of emotions in his eyes was exactly like Harry's. Sirius grinned and tried to sit up in his bed, but found himself struggling, once more, against the gravity of the earth. Immediately Harry and Lupin carefully hoisted him up, and Sirius leaned against the wall, staring at two of the most important persons in his life. He shyly opened his arms and beckoned Harry to come closer, and his godson got the message. Harry, still unbelievingly, came to his arms reach, and then Sirius could finally hug him tightly. Harry hugged him back with equal force, trying not to let his emotions get the best of him. Sirius was alive... He had returned. He was back, he was back! When they parted, both men hastily looked away to wipe away any trace of wetness from their eyes. Harry then stared at Sirius embracing Lupin, and a smile formed on his lips.

"Willing to talk, Padfoot?" Lupin volunteered to break the silence, also breaking the embrace, grabbing the chair he had been sitting on and drawing it near to Sirius's bed, as Harry sat on the edge of the bed. Sirius yawned.

"About what?" He rasped before cleaning his throat. It felt good to use his voice; it felt good to be among the living again, as stupidly obvious as that sounded. Harry and Lupin shared a wary glance.

"How did you get here, for example," Lupin answered. Harry bit the inside of his cheek as he looked at Sirius, who glanced back at them in silence.

"The Ministry was empty," he began with a thoughtful tone of voice. "When I managed to crawl out of the courtroom and out of the Department of Mysteries, there was no one in sight. I didn't know where I was at first... The Veil sort of kicked- _spit_ me out, if you will. I had forgotten what it was like to walk or stand, instead of drifting around." Sirius continued, his eyes sporting a faraway look. "So I guess that I was acting on instinct, or something along those lines. At first I apparated, but I swear that it just damn near killed me. After that, I walked... The house was empty... I tried to reach my room, but I assume I ended up passing out. And that's pretty much it," Sirius finished with a wide smile.

"The Veil 'spit you out'?" Harry asked quietly. His godfather raised his eyebrows.

"Yeah... A force, sort to speak, pushed me forwards, I guess. Why?" He said. Harry shook his head, looking away, and Lupin was frowning.

"Nevermind that now," he said firmly. "You have to rest."

"But I want to know what's been going on," Sirius protested. "Four years is a long time," he added.

"And we'll tell you everything, but not right now," Lupin replied. "You've been unconscious for a week. When you have some more strength, then we'll talk about whatever you feel like talking about."

"But-"

"Lupin's right," Harry interrupted, looking at him. He wanted to tell his godfather so many things; Sirius had missed so _many_ life changing events... And even so, Harry knew that it was a little too much at this time. Sirius looked at him with a surprised look but in the end he nodded, defeated.

"Fine, I see that I've been overruled." Lupin grinned.

"You sound like Molly," he commented, making Sirius scowl at him.

"Thanks, Moony. That's very comforting."

"You know, Padfoot... You look younger," Lupin told him, eyeing closely. Sirius raised his eyebrows.

"I _feel_ younger." He told his old friend, crossing his arms across his chest.

"I wonder..." Lupin trailed off, frowning again. Harry just stared at Sirius in silence; and Lupin was right... His godfather looked much younger and refreshed than ever before.

"How I manage to keep my smashing good looks?" Sirius completed the sentence for him with a smirk. Lupin barely smiled.

"My friend, I'd be more worried about your ever growing ego, if that was the case."

-

It took another four days for Sirius to be able to walk, and a week for him to get completely used to being able to use his legs properly again. He still felt dizzy sometimes, but those kinds of things were minor prices to pay to be alive again. He celebrated his first Christmas since Harry's fifth year in Grimmauld Place, and New Year's Eve was spent in the Burrow instead. Sirius was happy beyond himself, and his happiness was luckily contagious.

Currently, Sirius was enjoying himself in Grimmauld Place's living room, a week after the New Year's celebration, reckoning about Harry and Lupin had told him quite recently. Harry had successfully defeated Voldemort; not surprise there, Sirius had always known that his godson had it in him... Dumbledore had died; that had really shocked and saddened him, he had to admit... Snape betraying them; well, Sirius believed that they couldn't have expected anything more coming from _Snivellus_. Alright, Harry had told him that in the end Snape had been on the 'light side' all the time, but still... Didn't matter anyway, for Voldemort ended up killing him. There had been many losses, yes, but a world free of the taint of Voldemort was more than just a reward- it was a blessing.

Moony and Tonks were formally together now; nothing shocking there either... Ron had proposed, during New Year, to a girl Sirius did not recognize called Luna, daughter of the owner of the Quibbler... When it came to couples, the biggest surprise for Sirius had (not surprisingly) been Ginny married to Draco Malfoy. Now _that_ had been completely unexpected! And his godson was still single, the godfather had also noticed. Sirius had tried to engage Harry into several conversations about this, but he had successfully dodged any type of talk about love and relationships.

And still, as blissful and elated everyone looked, there was something missing: Hermione had not been present in any of the celebrations, nor had Sirius seen her anywhere near them. Neither Harry, nor Ron, nor even Ginny talked about her. Maybe they had fought over the years? Come to think of it, Hermione Granger's name was never even pronounced anymore. Sirius frowned at the ceiling and ran his fingers through his hair, wondering what could have happened to the inseparable trio during the course of the four years he had spent inside the Veil, for them to so blatantly ignore Hermione. And as her name rang in his ears, the feeling he had strictly forbidden himself to acknowledge years ago made its entrance in his head.

He wanted to see her again...

Sirius knew it had all been wrong, yes. And Hermione had also known that... The guilt of what had happened between them during her fifth year hung heavily in his heart, and yet he couldn't help it. She would be of age now... Maybe she could consider...? _Don't be stupid,_ Sirius scolded himself. _For all you know, she could be married with children. You're too old for her, anyway._ He sighed deeply at this thought. If she hadn't cared about it when she was fifteen, then there was still a chance. She would be twenty by now... At the age of fifteen, Hermione _had_ indeed entered the 'jailbait' territory, but what Sirius had found attractive in her was how much older she had appeared –and had acted- when it came to the spiritual and mental aspects of her personality. In all honesty, the person who Hermione was inside had lured him out of his shell... Of course she was very pretty too, no point in denying that, but it had been more... _profound_ that just the mere physical.

But profound or not, it still didn't make it right. Sirius remembered the night they had broken up and sadness traced itself all over his face, recalling Hermione's cracked voice. _"But I still love you."_ Sirius didn't know if she had been telling the truth or not, but he had had no other option. He couldn't deprive her of what could be a wonderful life with someone her own age to repay her with someone old enough to be her father; an ex convict...

But Hermione herself had told him that she didn't care about that... So what could he believe in? Did he have the right to hope? Hermione was Harry's best friend... Did he actually _have_ a right?

Sirius was so deep in thought that he didn't hear Harry entering Grimmauld Place; for it was noon and he had finished his work for the day. Being Friday, and close still to the New Year, the Ministry allowed their employees to leave much earlier than expected, and Harry had seized that opportunity eagerly. Having Sirius back at Grimmauld Place had greatly eased the pain of not having Hermione there anymore. And though Harry regarded Hermione and Sirius differently, and his godfather was not to be seen under any circumstance as a replacement, having at least one of them back was enough to make him have something forward to look to, a reason to get up in the morning, and to smile.

Harry plopped down on the couch opposite to Sirius and only then did his godfather acknowledged him with a smile, but he looked troubled. Harry smiled back as he took off his shoes and stretched on the couch, sighing happily. He was home; Sirius was alive, and a free man as well...

"Long day?" He heard Sirius ask, and he nodded mutely.

"It's all paperwork. I hate paperwork," Harry murmured, closing his eyes. Sirius chuckled. "One would think that the Death eaters also believe they deserve holidays," he added with a grin, looking over at Sirius, who grinned in return. There was a strange sadness to his gray eyes. "What's up?" Harry wanted to know. Sirius's brow furrowed slightly and he breathed in deeply, making Harry raise his eyebrows.

"I've been meaning to ask you something," he replied. Harry straightened up on the couch, resting his elbows on his knees.

"Fire ahead," he told him. Sirius nervously ran a hand through his black hair and bored his eyes into his.

"It's about Hermione." It didn't surprise Sirius that Harry's lips became only a line drawn in his face, and that his hands tensed around his knees. He even got pale.

"Oh. I see." His tone was icy, but not towards Sirius. They had not told his godfather about what had happened to Hermione, because Lupin still believed that it was just too coincidental that Padfoot had revived three months after her death. As Lupin put it, he 'had his doubts' and still had 'suspicions about what had really happened'. Harry had not understood what he had meant, but paid no attention to it. After all, Sirius deserved to know everything that had been going on.

"Where is she? Did you lot have a fight or something?" Sirius questioned. Harry sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose at this.

"No..." He trailed off. "Say, Sirius... Did you feel something, when you were still inside the Veil, five months ago?" Harry asked.

"There's nothing beyond the Veil. You become a whisper; you no longer feel. I thought I had already said that in the Ministry?" Sirius replied with his right eyebrow rise. He did not like to talk about what was behind the Veil... And in the hearing the Ministry had organized for him to testify, he had been forced to retell everything again, down to the smallest detail... He no longer wanted to be reminded of that stage of his life.

"Just wondering," Harry's voice broke his train of thought.

"But what does that have to do with Hermione?" Sirius asked him, frowning. Harry shook his head and looked down. "Is she away? Did she move to another country or something?"

"She's dead," Harry ejaculated without thinking, growing paler. It sounded so irrevocably real to say it like that. So unmistakably final. Sirius closed his mouth and widened his eyes, the truth hitting him on the head like an anvil. _Dead?!_ His Hermione was _dead_?

"But... How? Why; when? Why didn't you tell me?" Sirius accused, standing up and starting to pace through the living room. How could she have passed away? How was it possible? People like her should not die, ever. Precious lives like hers should be cherished; Hermione should be alive! He couldn't have lost her already... She had been so young! Her life was just beginning to take shape... And she had died...

"None of us can't get around it yet," Harry honestly said. Sirius snorted.

"Remus didn't want you to tell me, didn't he?" Harry's eyebrows shot up again in surprise, and the lack of answer confirmed Sirius's assumption: afterall, Moony had always been suspicious about what had happened between Hermione and himself, hadn't he?

"Well, that too," His godson agreed, blushing slightly. "As for your other questions..." Harry swallowed before answering, and Sirius did not miss the sudden discomfort that had gripped the younger wizard. However, he waited for the answers. "She died on September the 20th."

"A day after her birthday?" Sirius interrupted without thinking; Harry chose not to ask how his godfather could know a personal piece of information like when Hermione's birthday was.

"Yeah..." Harry's voice was small and distressed. "We don't know why, yet," he continued. "Not the exact reason, I mean."

"What do you mean? I thought she had been murdered during the War!" Sirius exclaimed.

"You see, Sirius... There was another reason why we didn't tell you," Harry told him, looking up at him. Sirius stared back in silence. "She killed herself-"

"_Hermione_ killed herself?!" Sirius cut him off, positively sure that Harry was pulling his leg. Few times in his life had he met someone less prone to commit suicide than Hermione. Harry nodded, his eyes downcast. "But- But _how_?" Sirius asked, horrified by the news. Harry closed his eyes tightly at the memory of the courtroom.

"She jumped through the Veil."

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A/N: Ah! There you go! I started writing this at 10.00 am... Blimey! I've been writing this for four hours! DAMN! This better be worth it, for your sake! I hope that you liked it; and as usual I ask you to leave a review to let me know what you thought of this! Until next chapter!


	21. Confession

Confession

A/N: Hi! Wow, you guys, those reviews were WONDERFUL! You seriously make me just too happy... I'm honest. I'm very excited, reason why I'm hurrying with the updates... I hope you'll like this chapter just as much as the last one. Without further ado... Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Nope. JK created them, and I'm simply borrowing them for my plot.

"_You've been the only thing that's right  
in all I've done._

_To think I might not see those eyes  
makes it so hard not to cry  
and as we say our long goodbye  
I nearly do._

_Even if you cannot hear my voice  
I'll be right beside you dear..."_

"_**Run"- Snow Patrol.**_

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He couldn't articulate a single word. In fact, he was sure that the floor under him had just been removed. Surely his hearing had been damaged? He couldn't have heard correctly. That _couldn't_ be the truth. That just couldn't be the reason she was dead; it was simply impossible. Harry stared back at him in silence, his green eyes full of sadness so deep that it even surprised Sirius. And he had been in Azkaban for twelve years, so that was saying quite a lot. In fact, that sorrow in his godson's eyes made him wonder if Harry's feelings for Hermione had not ran deeper than just friendship...

"Why would she do that?" Sirius finally asked barely above a whisper, for his lungs had apparently decided that he shouldn't get enough oxygen to raise his voice. The situation was just too obtuse; too irrational... Too unexpected.

"We don't know," Harry replied in the same voice, looking away.

"But... The Veil?" Had Sirius been a girl, he would have squeaked the question. It was simply... He couldn't understand why someone like Hermione would do such thing.

"It wasn't the first time," Harry confessed, not raising his eyes. The pain in his voice dug into Sirius's skin like a needle. "She had an overdose months before she jumped. I guess that- that she knew that the Veil was the quickest way... That we wouldn't be able to save her..." he added, and his voice broke. Sirius breathed in deeply and sat down next to Harry on the couch; not knowing what to say. What had driven her to take her own life? What had acted as the trigger?

"I'm sorry," Sirius whispered in the end, breaking the depressed silence that had fallen upon them. His godson would never be able to see how sorry his godfather really was, and that contributed to Sirius's hurt and remorse. Harry nodded next to him, still gazing at the floor, and neither of them spoke anymore.

After all, there wasn't much left to be said.

-+-

Sirius entered his room and locked the door behind him; fisting one hand in his hair to push it back as he heavily leaned against the now closed door. After that talk with Harry, he had gone out for a walk, a _very_ long walk... Truth to be told, he had needed to get out of there to reorganize his maddening thoughts and feelings.

She... Hermione... She didn't kill herself because of him, right?

Sirius closed his eyes at this thought, his brow furrowing. She had tried twice... Her overdose occurred months before he revived. But if that was so, why had she chosen the Veil, among all the existing ways to commit suicide? Forcibly, her death had to be connected with him. "Please love... Tell me I'm wrong. I'll never be happier to be mistaken..." he suddenly muttered, covering his face with his hands. If only Hermione could hear him; if only she could return! If only she was alive... Sirius uncovered his face and determinately walked towards his bedside table, sitting on the bed as he opened the lower drawer. On top of a tattered brown shoe box rested the picture Tonks had taken them back in Harry's fifth year. The look of happiness in Hermione's face made his heart shrink. Having the knowledge of what would be happening to her four years after that photograph was taken made her smile seem fake and forced.

With a sigh he carefully laid the picture on his side and moved to open the shoe box- the last time he had opened it had been a few months before he passed beyond the Veil. Inside, many yellow and old parchments piled up, and on top of them, the picture of Lily's and James's wedding. He placed that one over the other photograph and stared at the parchments that rested inside that box with a mixture of melancholy and nostalgia in his gray eyes. Letters from Hermione... A birthday card she had sent him... The Christmas card she had given him. Anguish enveloped Sirius like a shadow as he reread the letters, recognizing the neat handwriting, and all of a sudden felt like crying. No tears wet his eyes, but he felt sore inside... Hollow.

When Hermione had told him she loved him, Sirius had not known what to do. Loving someone is a big thing. It requires commitment, strength, courage... Among other things. She couldn't love him. Loving him would have meant tying herself to him, and Sirius, quite simply, would not let her waste her precious youth on him. She was too beautiful, inside and out, and he was just a retired Marauder. It had killed him to break things up with her, but she was just too young... She had a life to experience.

So if he had felt like that at that time... If he had cared so much... Would anyone care to explain why he had come to realize, _five_ _years_ _later_, that he had also fallen in love with her after that sinful kiss in the kitchen? Sirius wanted to hit himself and scream. But what use was it, anyway, if Hermione was no longer among the living?

A knock on the door startled him, and almost made him drop all the letters he was holding.

"Who is it?" He asked, hastily putting all the letters and pictures inside the box again. He'd never take them out again, from this point on. Ever.

"Moony," came the reply, muffled by the door.

"Come in," Sirius replied; just as he was grabbing the box to return it to its rightful place, Lupin entered the room. He eyed the box curiously.

"What's that?"

"A shoe box," Sirius told him, quickly placing it inside the drawer and closing the small door. Lupin half smiled as he reached for a chair that was near the window.

"Inside of it," he clarified, placing the chair in front of Sirius, who avoided his gaze.

"Just some old papers..." he trailed off. Lupin nodded but didn't question him any further, for a short while.

"What-"

"Why didn't you tell me about Hermione?" Sirius cut him off, glaring at him. Lupin raised his eyebrows and then sighed, crossing his arms as he leaned against the chair.

"Because of how she killed herself," Lupin answered in a soft voice. "Because you have just proved my point." He added.

"Point? What point?" Sirius snarled, frowning. What kind of explanation was that?

"I'm not stupid, you know," Lupin calmly said, leaning in slightly.

"You had me fooled, Moony," Sirius replied dramatically.

"Don't try to change the subject, Sirius." The seriousness in this statement made Sirius frown, but he didn't say anything. "I was not fooled by your alibi during Harry's and Hermione's fifth year, on that Christmas dinner. When you fell through the Veil, and I saw Hermione again at the end of their seventh year, she was still devastated about it. Then she came to live here. I don't know if he told you, but Harry found Hermione in this very room, drugged, on several occasions," Lupin began explaining. Sirius's eyed widened, but he didn't give any signs of wanting to interrupt, so Lupin continued. "Tonks gave her the present you had for her, which I had neglected over the years. Hermione never took that bracelet off... And nine months after Christmas she throws herself through the Veil, Sirius. It wasn't hard to put two and two together." Sirius looked away at these words.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he finally replied in a mutter. He knew perfectly well that he had been discovered, but it didn't hurt to keep up with the pretence. Maybe, if he was convincing enough, Lupin would give him a break.

"I won't tell Harry," Lupin told him gently. "If a time comes that he has to know, it'll your job to explain everything to him."

"I don't need to explain anything to Harry; nothing happened," Sirius attempted to carry on with the mask. "Are you going somewhere with this?" He questioned Lupin heatedly.

"Certainly." Lupin retorted firmly. "Because I have more than one reason to believe that Hermione sacrificed herself to bring you back."

Sirius stared at Lupin, and Lupin stared back at Sirius.

"Is that supposed to make me feel any better?" Sirius asked bitterly. Another burden on his shoulders, how nice... As if the loss and the pain weren't enough.

"No," Lupin honestly replied.

"What do you want me to say, then?" Sirius spat, glaring at him; he felt angry, betrayed, and guilty. "What else do you want from me, Remus?"

"The truth."

"FINE!" Sirius shouted, incensed. "Yes, I had an affair with her! There, are you happy now? Or you'll make me feel even more heartless?" He said. "Go ahead; tell everyone about it, because I DON'T REGRET IT! I don't care if it was wrong, I don't care if you feel revolted, I don't care if you hate me!"

"Calm down-"

"Oh, now you want me to calm down??" Sirius barked, standing up. "You've just told me that there's a chance that Hermione killed herself because of me, and you didn't even flinch! How do you think that that information makes me feel?!" Sirius bellowed, ready to strangle his old friend. How could he be so cold?

"So you love her back, I see," Lupin replied, staring up at him from the chair. Sirius opened his mouth to reply, but in the end decided against it. Instead he just looked at Lupin, breathing heavily and with his cheeks ablaze, trying to calm down.

"So the fuck what if I do?" He retorted roughly. Lupin shrugged.

"Nothing. You're forgetting that I'm the boyfriend of someone fifteen years younger than me," he told him. "Hermione was _too_ young, though..."

"I know, thank you," Sirius spat, blushing again. He didn't need anyone to rub it on his face. "And in case you're wondering, we didn't fuck," he added, saving Lupin the embarrassment of asking for such a personal scrap of information.

"Could you be any cruder, Padfoot?" Lupin asked, unfazed.

"I'll be as crude as I please," Sirius retorted. He knew it wasn't a very mature thing to say, but honestly, he didn't give a damn.

"I won't judge you, whatever the case," Lupin said. "If she gave her consent to the whole deal, then she wanted it too... Will you tell Harry?"

"I don't think he needs to know." Sirius responded. "Hermione has passed away, and adding another burden to Harry's grief, like you just did to mine, won't make her come back." He wasn't going to forgive Remus so easily. "What difference did it make, Remus? What good is it to anyone that you think Hermione killed herself because of me? I didn't need to know that."

"Not killed herself. Sacrificed," Lupin corrected him. Sirius shot daggers at him with his eyes, but Moony didn't seem to care. "Harry says that Hermione had a book-"

"More than one, if I recall her personality correctly," Sirius interrupted, smiling slightly at the memory of that lovely bookworm. Lupin rolled his eyes.

"A _special_ book, idiot; called _The Veiled Mysteries_," Lupin continued. "Maybe it can tell us something about the Veil. If my theory is correct, and Hermione was the one that indeed brought you back, there's still hope that she can also come back." Sirius's brow furrowed at this.

"I doubt it... Where is that book?" he wanted to know, sitting down on the bed again. He didn't dare let his hopes go up... He didn't want to fool himself with wistful expectations...

"Hermione's room."

"Have you read it?" Sirius asked, ignoring the knot in his throat at the mention of her room. Lupin shook his head. As Sirius opened his mouth to speak, a loud sneeze could be heard from the other side of the door, in the hallway. Lupin frowned and Sirius snapped his eyes in direction of the door, springing up like hit by lightening. "Did you cast a Silencio on the room??" He asked, suddenly horrified. Lupin put his hand on his forehead and once again quickly shook his head in uncertainty.

"No," he answered.

Shortly after he had spoken, an audible gasp was heard. From the sound, the eavesdropper had just discovered that he or she had been caught.

-+-

A/N: And yet another one posted. I hope that it's good! I'm eager to please you guys with this story... I loved writing this chapter, especially Sirius's confession. You know what I ask in return: a review, to be able to know what you think!

On another note, I opened a my space account where I posted a wallpaper I did for this story, among other things, so if you're interested, check out my profile!

Until next chapter!


	22. The Veiled Mysteries

The Veiled Mysteries

A/N: Hello! Sorry for the delay in posting this, I had a major writer's block, because I wanted to make this chapter really good... So I hope it lives up to your expectations. So... Here's chapter twenty-two!

Disclaimer: Nope, only the plot. And that's all I need.

"_Some say love, it is a river  
that drowns the tender reed.  
Some say love, it is a razor  
that leaves your soul to bleed.  
Some say love, it is a hunger,  
an endless aching need."_

"_**The Rose"- Bette Midler.**_

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Sirius ran to the door and swung it open. In the doorway stood Tonks, about to turn around, with her jaw slightly open. Lupin came to stand next to Sirius and raised his eyebrows at her girlfriend.

"Having a nice time?" Sirius snarled, towering over her. He was terrified. For one horrible second, he had thought Harry had been on the other side of the door, listening to what he had just confessed. He was torn between feeling relieved or just pissed off because Lupin had made him admit everything concerning the affair.

"I'm- I'm so sorry," Tonks nearly wailed. "I- I was looking for Remus and- I heard you scream..." She trailed off. Sirius closed his eyes and rubbed them.

"What did you hear?" He asked tiredly. Great, now Tonks knew all about it.

"Come in," Lupin said. "The last thing we need is someone else taking hold of this," he added when Sirius glared at him. Tonks blushed as she complied and entered the room, wriggling her hands. She didn't speak again as she examined the floor.

"So? What did you hear?" Sirius prompted, slamming the door behind him. Both Lupin and Tonks were startled by the sound.

"Everything," Tonks answered in a small voice, looking up slowly. "Did you- did you really...? Hermione and you...?"

"That would be none of your business, but yeah," Sirius told her, turning away. What if she told someone about it? Not that Tonks would do that on purpose, but...

"Oh, Sirius," Tonks breathed. "That's why... When I gave her your present... Oh, I should have known," she told him. Sirius didn't grace that comment with an answer, but Lupin did.

"We were just talking about that, as you must have heard," he said; and that calmed Sirius down a little bit. Tonks again broke eye contact.

"I'm sorry, I really am." She whispered.

"Apology accepted," Sirius grunted as he started pacing back and fro through his room. Whether he forgave her or not, it was too late to cry about it. "Tell anyone and I'll murder you." He added simply, not looking at her. And the worst part is that some part of him really meant it.

"Of course not," Tonks retorted, sounding offended. "Hermione could have told me," she stated after a while, making Sirius gaze at her. "With me dating Remus and all..."

"She was fifteen when it happened," Lupin said before Sirius could open his mouth. "That technically makes Sirius a paedophile... I wouldn't have said anything either," he told Tonks. Sirius's cheeks, once again, glowed red.

"Remus, what the hell? Are you going to continue making me feel like a monster?" He angrily asked. He felt mad enough to spit.

"Sorry."

"Are you going to tell anyone?" Tonks wanted to know, frowning slightly.

"No." Sirius's voice was hard and concrete, as was his answer. This was no one's business but his... He didn't even want to _imagine_ Ron's and Harry's faces.

"I don't think you're being fair to Harry," Lupin commented, draping his arm around Tonks shoulders. "He doesn't deserve being kept in the dark about this."

"Remus Lupin, I swear that I'm really going to kick your ass," Sirius warned. "He _doesn't_ need to know!"

"I agree with Sirius on this one," Tonks said; Lupin shrugged. "What were you saying about that book?" She questioned.

"We need to enter Hermione's room to get it," Lupin responded. "The sooner, the better." Sirius stopped pacing around at this.

"I won't go in there," he immediately said. No, he wouldn't enter the bedroom of someone whom he had loved and was now gone. It was as if someone told him to enter Lily's and James's house. There were lines that simply couldn't be crossed.

"I'll go," Lupin volunteered softly. He didn't like the idea either, but there was a bigger purpose now: bringing Hermione back.

"What about Harry?" Tonks asked barely above a whisper.

"He won't be able to stand it," Sirius said sadly.

"And how do you know? Have you spoken with him about it?" Lupin asked curiously.

"We talked about Hermione... And that was enough proof for me," Sirius replied flatly. A silence fell above them before Sirius let out a long sigh. "I wish I could see her again," he said in a rugged whisper. He was not looking at them, so Lupin and Tonks shared a worried look. Had he realized what he had said?

"In a way, you can," Tonks whispered back. Sirius shook his head slowly.

"Pictures are just doppelgangers," he argued.

"Not a picture..." Tonks trailed off. Lupin suppressed a gasp when he realized what his girlfriend meant.

"I don't think that's a good-"

"Let me decide that," Sirius cut him off abruptly, making Lupin frown. "You were saying, Tonks...?"

"I'm a Metamorphmagus, remember?" She said quietly. "I'll change as an apology for... for overhearing." She stood there, staring at him, waiting for him to agree or decline the proposition. Lupin's arms were crossed, and he didn't say anything either. For a couple of minutes, Sirius just didn't know what to do. He longed to see Hermione again, but... Wouldn't it be a little disturbing? Tonks would never be Hermione... And when she changed back into her original body, would he be able to handle the deception? Would the truth of Hermione's death be embossed in his brain forever more?

"Okay," Sirius's irrational side spoke. "Change... Please." Lupin let out a huff and Tonks nodded, breathing in deeply before screwing her face up. In a matter of seconds Hermione stood in front of him, smiling. Sirius's mouth was slightly agape as he took in how much Hermione had changed. She had been pretty at fifteen, beautiful even, but she had grown into the gorgeousness of a woman. Her hair was longer, less wild; her features had sharpened, too. She wasn't thin but she wasn't nowhere near fat, either. She was perfect...

"This is wrong, Sirius, for Merlin's sake!" Lupin exclaimed angrily, avoiding looking at 'Hermione'.

"When you want me to change back, just say so," Tonks told Sirius, who was gaping at her. Truth to be told, it was unsettling.

"Speak again," Sirius requested softly.

"Um... I know _Hogwarts, A History_, by heart?" Tonks tried, and Sirius beamed. It felt so good to hear Hermione again, and to see her...

"ENOUGH!" Lupin ended up yelling. "This is not just wrong; this has leapt into plain perversion! Tonks, change back right now! If you want to be morbid then be so, but not in front of me!" He ordered. Before either of them could speak, a strangled gasp was heard from the doorway. Lupin, Sirius and Tonks whipped around to see Harry pressing against the hallway wall, his eyes popping out of his sockets. He didn't appear to be breathing.

"Harry?" Sirius asked, petrified. He could not even imagine what was going inside his godson's head, and only know did he see how distorted the situation really was. Moony had been right all along... Maybe Sirius _was_ sick. How could he have agreed to Tonks impersonating a dead person? It was twisted... It was disrespectful...

"What- What is Hermione doing here?" Harry asked in a high pitched tone, still pressed against the wall. Tonks suddenly looked as though she was about to cry; she screwed up her face again and returned to her original body. Her eyes were red.

"I'm so sorry, Harry-" she started.

"No, don't you apologize," Lupin interrupted her, glaring at Sirius, who still looked carved out of stone.

"Whose idea was this?" Harry asked in a trembling voice, rage flashing in his eyes. When no one answered, Harry unglued himself from the wall. "Whose idea was this?" He repeated loudly. Tonks really did begin crying, and Sirius looked close to following her example. "Have you got no shame?" He wanted to know before turning around and stomping away from the door; they were able to hear a door being closed so harshly that it surprised them that Grimmauld Place didn't shake.

"I'm- I'm an idiot," Tonks sobbed, shivering. Sirius fell against the wall of his room and lowered his head, still not speaking a word.

"You were both wrong," Lupin said firmly. "Padfoot, honestly..."

"I know," his friend said coarsely. "I know."

"We're leaving, Nymphadora." She nodded at this, still sobbing, and she embraced Lupin. "Sirius, you owe Harry an explanation. I'm not returning here until you have all this straightened out." Just as he finished speaking, with a loud POP they were both gone, and Sirius still didn't dare to gaze up. His hands covered his face as he crouched over in true shame for what he had done. Once he had collected himself he uncovered his face and breathed in deeply, heavily starting to walk towards Harry's room. What to tell him? How to explain this to Harry, without telling him about the affair? Much sooner of what he would have liked, Sirius found himself standing in front of Harry's door, shaking as though he was about to meet a Dementor inside. Closing his eyes, as though expecting an AK, he knocked on the door.

"Harry? It's- It's me, Sirius."

"Come in," Harry's voice boomed through the door. Breathing in deeply, Sirius pushed the door open to find Harry looking through his window, with his arms crossed.

"Harry-"

"I don't want any explanations," Harry cut him off, glaring at him as he turned around.

"And what about an apology? It was wrong; we'll never do anything of the sort again." Sirius replied, boring his eyes into Harry's.

"I hope not, Sirius." His tone was hard, but not dripping hatred like moments before.

"I'm going to have nightmares for weeks," Sirius mumbled, looking down.

"Join the club; we have jackets," Harry retorted. Sirius allowed a small smile to show, and his godson's features softened a bit.

"I'm really sorry, you know," Sirius said again. "Don't get pissed with Lupin. He tried to stop us."

"Just don't do it again," Harry said with a sigh. "I almost had a heart attack..."

"Harry... We need to enter Hermione's room." Sirius blurted out, totally out of the blue.

The air seemed to get thicker and colder, or thinner and heated.

"Whatever for?" Ah, there it was. The aggressiveness was back.

"The book she had. Lupin thinks it may say something... useful."

"And what do you think?" Harry asked him. Sirius shrugged.

"I don't need false expectations."

"Me neither... But maybe she could come back," Harry retorted hopefully. "Okay... We'll get it tomorrow."

-+-

In the second floor landing, the hallway was crowded- even Draco, dragged by Ginny, was there. Everyone was staring at Lupin, who was about to enter the room, anxiously. Harry was in the living room (he had said that over his dead body he'd ever get near that room again), but Sirius was in the group, trying to look cool and calmed. He was still ashamed of what he had done yesterday, as was Tonks. She had not been able to look at Harry in the eye, not even after Harry himself had told her that she was forgiven.

"Well..." Lupin started, breaking the tense silence, as he raised his wand. "_Finite Incantatum_." The door made an odd squelching sound and Lupin pushed it open carefully, stepping inside slowly. Sirius leaned over to take a peek of the room, but immediately retreated. He felt dirty; he didn't have the right. Wishing he could forget about yesterday, he looked away quickly... Lupin exited Hermione's room a few minutes later, clutching the black book, and raised his wand again. "_Colloportus_," he said, and the door closed itself with the same sound. Everyone eyed the book curiously.

"Well then... Shall we go down?" Luna was the first to speak, tugging on Ron's hand.

"Let's," Ron muttered, and they all followed Lupin through the corridor and down the stairs like a troop following a general. They reached the living room and Harry stared up at them immediately, his eyes travelling down to the book. He swallowed. Everyone situated themselves as close as possible save for Sirius; he contented himself by observing from the sidelines. Lupin opened the book and frowned as his eyes followed the appearing words.

"Well?" Ginny suddenly asked, gripping Draco's hand. "What does it say?"

"So far, it explains what's beyond the Veil," Lupin answered, thoughtfully tracing the lines with his fingers almost admiringly.

"Trust only my mother to have a book of that sort," Sirius commented. Lupin smiled slightly.

"Indeed... Well... It says here that the Veil is supposed to act as a limbo. If you fall, you're neither dead nor alive... Yes..." he muttered.

"Nothing that we don't know already," Harry interrupted this time. "Skip all that." Lupin did as told and began scanning through the pages quickly; his eyes becoming only two gray blurs. He was reaching what it looked to be the middle of the book when he let out a small exclamation of triumph.

"What?" Tonks asked urgently.

"Here it is," Lupin said, his eyes widening as he read. "It talks about a potion... The chances to bring someone back are almost..." he trailed off, earning a how of frustration from the six persons around him.

"Give me that," Draco said, leaning over to snatch the book from Lupin's hands. His brow furrowed, as he read what the book said, almost in concentration. "Bloody hell... Everything must be perfectly calculated... The birthday dates... The date to drink the potion, the time..." He recited slowly.

"What birthday dates?" Ron asked. Draco shook his head.

"The one from the person you're trying to save, and your own," he responded, scratching his chin. "There must be a connection, because-" here he turned over the page, "Because... _You must love the person who has passed on_?" Draco finished in an unbelieving voice, raising his right eyebrow. It was lucky Sirius wasn't drinking anything, because he would have sprayed them all.

"Well obviously," Luna said. "Love helped Harry defeat Voldemort. Why shouldn't it be able to revive the departed?"

"But it says here that you must..." Draco closed his mouth, leaving the sentence hanging.

"You must _what_?" Harry asked, exasperated by their nonsense.

"It's a sacrifice... And, it says here, that almost by default you must love the person deeply in order to be willing or wanting to exchange your life for theirs," Draco said before looking at Sirius, who was suddenly pale. Everyone turned to look at him, sporting puzzled glances, save for Lupin and Tonks. "However, the love that the person who is going to sacrifice him or herself, professes, is not enough to counteract the unmoving laws of nature. And thus, the potion is needed..." Draco trailed off, and he jumped two pages forwards. His eyes widened just as Lupin's and he nodded mutely as he read, oblivious to the murdering growls of the rest.

"My turn," Ron stated, prying the book off Draco's hands. He had to lean slightly over the torn and old pages to read. "There are two potions for the exchanging of the lives," he told them. "Blimey... Some of these ingredients can only be found in Knockturn Alley... These are the most complicated potions I've ever known... And that's saying something..." He mused.

"So what's the difference between the potions?" Lupin wanted to know. Ron turned the page over, frowning. "The first one allows you to fall through the Veil, retrieve the person you have lost, and come back alive and well, both of you. It takes a year to brew." He jumped two pages ahead. "The second one... It takes six to eight months to brew, depending on the purity of the ingredients. This one only brings back the person you wanted to save..." His voice cracked at this, and he looked up at what he had just read. Ginny was still about to break the bones in Draco's hand; Harry had gone as pearly white as a ghost, and Tonks was biting her lower lip sadly; Sirius was staring at the floor... Luna placed her hand over Ron's.

"I'll continue," she gently said, taking the book from Ron's death like grip, and began reading in silence.

"Why didn't she choose the first one?" Ginny squeaked.

"Because she didn't want to come back," Harry whispered, covering his eyes with his hand. His tone was so heavy, so distressed; his statement was so truthful that it was useless, and beyond sad.

"But why?" Ron asked to no one, running his fingers through his hair. No one replied to this, and they stared at each other for what felt like hours. Maybe, reading this book had not been such a great idea after all. A hoarse gasp broke all their reveries, and the heads snapped in direction of Luna, who was covering her mouth with his hand. A look of horror, mixed with sorrow, clouded her usually happy eyes.

"What is it, love?" Ron questioned, alarmed, putting an arm around her shoulders. Luna shook her head frantically, tearing her eyes away from the yellow pages.

"I- I don't think we should continue reading this," she choked.

"Why?" Harry demanded. Luna only shook her head.

"We shouldn't read this," she repeated.

"Oh, hand that book over," Harry finally spat, stretching his hand to get the book.

"No!" Luna exclaimed, widening her eyes as she moved the book out of his reach. She sounded scared. A pregnant silence fell over the living room at this statement.

"Luna, we can't stop now. We're too involved," Sirius suddenly spoke, finally finding his voice. What could be written in that book? "If we stop, it'll only drive us mad. Give it to me... I'll read it." Luna apprehensively stared at Sirius's stretched hands, and reluctantly handed the book over to him. He was right- They didn't have another choice. Sirius narrowed his eyes at the spiky handwriting and saw that it was the list of ingredients for each potion. "Here are the ingredients, yes..." He muttered the name of some of them, but didn't recognize them. He fingers traced each of the ingredients as he read, and when he reached the last one he frowned. "What the hell?!" He exclaimed.

What _was_ this potion, for Merlin's sake? Had Hermione really drank that? Had she actually brewed such a vile thing?

"What, Padfoot?" Lupin wanted to know, slightly rising from the couch he was sitting in. Sirius shook his head in complete disbelief, wondering if his eyes were playing tricks on him.

"Three droplets of blood from a person or a number of people who also loved the deceased one," Sirius recited, and paid no heed to the various gasps. Sure this potion was a nasty piece of work, but why had Luna gotten so upset about it?

This question was answered as he read the paragraph below the list of ingredients. This time, Sirius really got unsettled.

"Bloody hell!" He exclaimed. "It says here that the person who is about to make the sacrifice must carry an imprint of another person who loved the one that had fallen into the realm of the Veil-"

"Sirius, don't," Luna begged in a whimper.

"An imprint?" Harry questioned, confused, ignoring Luna's plead. Sirius nodded almost absentmindedly, still disturbed over what he was reading.

Had Hermione done this to someone?

"Yes, an imprint... In this case, an imprint in the mind, the soul... And the _body_," he responded.

"What, like a scar?" Draco asked.

"Not such an obvious mark... It says that it has to run deeper than that... In fact... This book states that the only satisfying imprint you can have is by-"

"Don't!" Luna whimpered again, but no one was paying enough attention to her.

"By intercourse. You know... Shagging," Sirius finished, disgusted. Had Hermione really done that? Apparently, yes... The potion _had_ worked... Had Hermione loved him so much, in order to not only drink that potion, but also gathering everything that was needed? The coffee table nearly upturned when someone got up quickly from one of the couches, and Sirius lifted his eyes to meet the ones of his godson's, glossy and red; staring back at him with such a hectic mix of impotence, deception, anguish and pain in his eyes that Sirius almost felt his own pupils burning. Harry's lips were pale; there was not a hint of any kind of colour on his face. His fists were clenched, and his back was straighter than a pin. Sirius opened his mouth to ask what was wrong when a lone tear fell from Harry's eye, and it suddenly struck him _why_. Sirius's mouth was suddenly very dry.

Harry loved Sirius as a mentor, as a friend, and as a fatherly figure. Nobody, at least since James and Lily died, had loved him as much as Harry, besides Hermione.

_His_ three droplets of blood into the potion. _His_ imprint on Hermione's body...

-+-

A/N: Well! There you go... I absolutely loved writing the last part of the chapter; and there is more to come about this! Ah! I hope this was good enough... So please let me know by reviewing! Until next chapter!


	23. Breaking the News

Breaking the News

A/N: Hello! Thank you for all those amazing reviews, first of all! Sorry if this chapter took a bit to be posted, but I'm also working on my new fic, The Reason, and I'm trying not to get them mixed up. Anyway, here's the chapter we've all wanted/waited to read... Hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: No, I don't own the characters. And from my plot, I don't think that they'd be happy with me owning them.

"_I have seen pain,  
Resting on the shoulders of your name.  
Do you see the truth through all their lies?  
Do you see the world through troubled eyes?_

_I have seen death.  
Lived to see a lover's final breath.  
Do you see my guilt? Should I feel a fright?  
Is the fire of hesitation burning bright?_"

"_**Cry"- James Blunt.**_

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Sirius continued to stare at Harry, transfixed, absorbing his feelings through his eyes. So that was why Harry had so enthusiastically avoided anything related to relationships and love... So it was safe to say that Harry had also fallen in love with Hermione? That was not good, no, not at all...

No one spoke; the eyes were all downcast and horrified at what they had just discovered. Nobody moved, nobody breathed for a couple of seconds, waiting for the explosion that had yet to come. The silence was eerie; it fell over them like some sort of black cloud; could someone just-

"Harry-" Ron croaked at last, making the lingering pressure ebb away. Before he could add anything more, Harry lifted a hand to silence him and shook his head, closing his eyes for a couple of seconds. Ron closed his mouth and anxiously waited for his best friend to speak, but he didn't. Harry lowered his arm and, without looking at them, simply turned around and made for the stairs. Ginny and Luna bit their lips as they stared at him go, while Tonks frowned sadly and Lupin stared right at Sirius with sad eyes. Sirius broke the eye contact hastily, wondering if they would blame him for what Hermione had done. He couldn't have known she would do something like that. It wasn't his fault, right...? Guilt shot through him like an arrow, and his eyes glanced down at the book on his lap.

That awkward impression of being inside a pressing machine returned with full strength when Harry's steps couldn't be heard anymore; not one of them knew what to do now.

"Maybe... Someone could go and check on him?" Luna squeaked.

"Let's leave him alone for a while," Ron replied, glancing at the stairs warily, as though he expected Harry to throw himself down the set. Silence encompassed them once more... They could all tell from the looks on the faces that they wanted to continue reading the book, but no one dared to say so.

"How- How could she? How could she?" Ginny finally asked with a cracked voice, anger flashing in her eyes. "How could she be so- so selfish?" As the words escaped her lips, Sirius wanted to frown and tell her that she ought to speak better of Hermione in his presence, but the fact still remained that Hermione had, with no doubt, used his godson. And even if Sirius was in love with her, he also loved Harry.

"Well," Draco started, after cleaning his throat, "I don't blame her."

A look of disgust plagued Ginny's eyes as she glared at him; Ron's was no different. The rest remained, or at least tried to remain, unmoving and expressionless.

"I want a divorce," Ginny stated fiercely as Ron said, "Okay; I'm going to kill him." Draco rolled his eyes, mildly bored at the reactions.

"Think," he drawled. "Think. Hermione was not called the brightest witch of our year for nothing. I'll admit that she wasn't one of my favourite people around, but I see no point in denying that she had a... good heart," he spoke the last words with a trace of sarcasm, but quickly composed himself before continuing. "She knew Pott- Harry loved her; she knew what she was doing, and knew what were the consequences of it-"

"She could have drunk the first potion!" Ron exclaimed. Draco merely looked at him at this.

"As I was saying before I was interrupted-" He started, sneering at Ron, who got red in the ears, but didn't speak again, "Would you have wanted to come back to someone you had used so cruelly? Hermione probably thought that he' never find out what she had done... Perhaps she felt safer... However, I have no doubt that Hermione knew how Harry would feel if he ever discovered what she had done, and thus felt ashamed, guilty, heartless, selfish; everything you were about to accuse her of." Draco continued, drawing breath. "I believe that Hermione found solace in the fact that Sirius would return, and that she'd make it up to Harry. Like I said, I wouldn't have come back either." He concluded, gazing at the people around him. Yet another silence greeted that explanation, for they were all gaping at him, including Sirius.

"Since when you became so interested in Hermione?" Luna finally asked. Draco shrugged.

"The War made me rearrange my priorities, so to speak... Then I started seeing Ginny... Such a pity that she wants to divorce me, though," he retorted, allowing a small smile to show. Ginny shook her head and took hold of his hand again, squeezing it mutely.

"Well, if Draco is right-" Lupin spoke for the first time, "should we attempt to bring her back?"

"Of course," Ron stated immediately with a surprised face, as if he was wondering how anyone would dare to think otherwise.

"We have to think of Harry," Tonks said, aggravated. "In any case, we'll need his blood... What if he hates her now? And, obviously, we can't forget Hermione-"

"Are you implying that we don't do anything?" Ginny flared up. "What, so we just ignore what we have just read, we bypass Harry's feelings, as well as ours; and live with the fact that Hermione could have returned and we didn't even try to revive her?"

"But, Ginny, if Draco's theory is right-"

"I love my husband dearly, but he can make mistakes!" Ginny exclaimed; Draco smirked but didn't say anything at the comment. Lupin was opening his mouth to speak when Ron turned to Sirius, who had been strangely silent.

"How come Hermione cared about you so much, Sirius?" Ron questioned. Tonks gasped silently, and Lupin bored his eyes into Sirius's. Everyone was staring at him.

"I... Don't know," Sirius responded lamely, slowly, carefully avoiding looking at Lupin.

"She didn't even know you!" Ron continued. Sirius ran his fingers through his hair and sighed, wondering what he should do, what he should say to appease them.

"I don't know, Ron," he repeated a little bit more forcefully. "Maybe she just wanted to do Harry a favour or something..."

"But the book says you must love the person you're trying to save," Luna commented. Sirius glared at the floor and had to rearrange his features before looking up at them again.

"Look, I just don't know, okay? Don't try to blame me for what she did!" He told them loudly. He didn't need to feel guilty about this too; if they continued to add more weight on his shoulders, he might as well throw himself beyond the Veil again...

"No one's blaming you," Draco said tersely, with a suspicious spark in his eyes. "We are just... Wondering." Sirius rubbed his eyes at this, attempting to calm down. If he continued to lose his patience like this, something secret was bound to spill out.

"I think we should try to bring her back," he said calmly, gazing at them from the corner of his eye. "My godson will, maybe, end up forgiving her. He forgave me, afterall. Harry will come around, you'll see..."

But Harry was apparently having a hard time with 'coming around'.

He remerged from his room four days after that awful day, when he had found out why Hermione's confession had been so sudden and urgent... The day he found out that Hermione didn't truly love him- that she had just used him to get Sirius back. It was hard to describe what he was feeling; 'sad' wasn't sad enough, 'angry' wasn't angry enough. Yes, he was angry. He was angry with Hermione, and he was angry with Sirius. Harry had tried not to, but he couldn't help but wonder why Hermione had come to care about his godfather so much. How could she love Sirius, if she had barely known him? Merlin... They fought about Kreacher! Hermione thought Sirius confused Harry with James!

Maybe, Hermione had not loved Sirius so deeply. Maybe, Harry's blood had helped with the process... Harry stopped walking, at the top of the stairs, at this thought. He had been hungry, but now that ache had faded- he didn't want to deal with facing Sirius, or Lupin, or whoever. He whipped around and went into his bedroom again, kicking the door behind him to close it. Meanwhile, in the kitchen, Lupin, Sirius, Ron and Ginny glanced at each other worriedly.

"He's- He's acting like Hermione did before... before the overdose," Ginny struggled to say, not wanting to recall that awful morning.

"You don't think...?" Ron asked in fear. Hermione's suicide had left various issues among the emotionally involved, and paranoia was one of the predominant ones.

"Harry would never-" Sirius started to protest when Ron cut him off.

"Yeah, we thought the same about Hermione," he snarled.

"Calm down," Lupin said. "As much as I understand your fear, Harry won't try to do anything."

"And how do you know that?" Ginny asked.

"Sirius is here," Lupin simply replied. "You two are also here, too. Let's not forget that Harry has that streak of... nobility, shall we say? Besides, he has suffered the deaths of many people- I don't believe, even if he feels suicidal (which I strongly doubt), that he would like impose on you the sorrow of his own death." He explained.

"You're right," Ron said, and his sister smiled. "Keep an eye on him, just in case..." Ginny nodded and checked her wristwatch, gasping.

"I have to meet Draco!" She breathed. "I have to go; please keep me informed on Harry, okay?" She added as she stood up, kissing Ron goodbye.

"Of course," Sirius told her with a smile. Ginny waved at the two older men and disapparated, leaving an uncomfortable silence among the three remaining in the kitchen.

"Well, I think I'll go home, too," Ron said, scratching his head. "Luna's going berserk lately, with the preparations for the wedding and all..." he trailed off. "So see you tomorrow?" He said.

"See you tomorrow," Lupin retorted; Ron shook hands with them before also dissaparating with a sharp 'crack'. "Now that we're alone, Padfoot..." Lupin began, staring at Sirius, who grunted.

"What?" He tiredly asked.

"Harry _has_ to know. You have to tell him." Sirius cradled his head with his hands and looked down at the table, letting out a long sigh; a strange display of weakness that Lupin had rarely seen coming from his old friend.

"I know," Sirius muttered. "He'll kill me, Remus; and Hermione's sacrifice will have been in vain..."

"But we need him, and he needs you too as well. He'll have his suspicions by now, Sirius... He's not stupid. The more you postpone it, the more resentful he'll become," Lupin said. Sirius closed his eyes, as though struggling with himself.

"Okay," he finally said, looking up defiantly. "I'll tell him. Now." Yes, he better tell Harry now, before he lost his nerve. He was scared to death about revealing this to his godson, but he had no other possible exit route.

"Would you like me to be there, or you'd rather be alone with him?" Lupin wanted to know with an encouraging smile. Sirius seemed thoughtful for a couple of seconds, seemingly weighting his options (if he had any).

"Come with me. If he hexes me, then you can either run for your life or return my face, and or body, to normal," Sirius replied. "And if he AK's me, well... Hide the body." Lupin grinned at him and stood up, beckoning Sirius to do the same.

The journey to Harry's room was excruciating, to say the least. Every step was a struggle, as if Sirius had lead in his shoes, and the door that lead into his godson's room kept getting father and father away, at the same time growing menacingly close to him. When at last they reached the door, Sirius finally lost all the guts he may have possessed. He couldn't do this. He couldn't say this to Harry... Lupin placed a hand over his shoulder and nodded, with a serious face, so Sirius knew that he didn't have any chance to escape this bitter end; this end of the alley. Breathing in shakily, Sirius knocked on Harry's door.

"Who is it?" Harry's muffled but clearly tired voice was heard. At the incapacity of Sirius to find his voice, Lupin took the lead.

"Lupin and Sirius. We wish to talk to you." A minute passed in complete silence, minute in which Sirius's gaunt features turned slightly green. And then, they heard Harry muttering the _Finite Incantatem_. Lupin, firmly grabbing Sirius's shoulder, grabbed the doorknob and turned it, opening the door and dragging Sirius inside. Harry stared at them from his bed; his room was messy and unkempt.

"What is it?" Harry asked them. Sirius was staring at him with an oddly scared look. Lupin shook Sirius by the shoulder and Harry raised his eyebrows when his godfather jerked at the touch, as though he had been asleep and had been rudely awakened. "Well?" he said, raising his eyebrows.

"I- I need to... To tell you something," Sirius muttered, staring straight into Harry's eyes. "About... About Hermione," he added in a higher tone of voice, almost squeamish. Harry frowned, and he stood up from the bed.

"Go ahead then," he retorted. Sirius drew in a shaky breath at this, glancing furtively at Harry's door. Lupin crossed his arms behind Sirius like a body guard, patiently waiting for him to speak.

"I don't... This isn't easy for me," Sirius told Harry. "I can't think of a better way to tell you this, besides going straight to the point..." Harry crossed his arms at this, but his expression softened when he heard Sirius's voice. He truly sounded troubled.

"It's easier that way, I believe," he retorted. Sirius nodded and, breathing in deeply once more, opened his mouth.

"I... I had an... an affair with Hermione, Harry..."

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A/N: Ahhh! I loved writing this last part! There's no much left to say now... Hope you enjoyed it. If you did, please leave a review to let me know! Until next chapter... Bye!


	24. Aftermath

Aftermath

A/N: Hello there! Thank you for those last reviews! Keep them coming! Again, I wanted to wait a little bit more to post this chapter, but I couldn't help myself, and here it is. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Nope, don't own anything. Only the plot.

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The dust particles hanging about in the air seemed to stay still for a seconds, after he had spoken. Harry was there, as still as a statue, with his eyes wide open. Lupin was behind him-

Sirius didn't see it coming; he just felt the explosion of sharp pain in his lip and felt his head snap back. He stumbled and fell to the floor in a heap, still wondering what had just happened; he could taste the metallic taste of blood on his mouth... He touched his mouth with his fingers and almost hissed at the sight of blood on them; it took only that to register what had happened: Harry had just decked him. Harry Potter, his godson, had just punched him.

Sirius looked up at Harry, feeling between enraged and sorry...

... And he found himself completely speechless. Harry was breathing heavily, gritting his teeth, his hands turned into fists. He seemed to be taller inside that small bedroom, towering over him; a tidal wave of unspoken magical power nearly made Sirius back away from him. Harry's features had hardened; his lips in a straight line; pale as a ghost, glaring down at him... It now deemed how obvious it was that Harry was no longer that mistreated, underfed kid he had been at fifteen; it made one remember that he had seen horrors nobody should have even hear of, it made one remember that Harry had survived two killing curses and had defeated Voldemort...

That was Sirius realized that he was genuinely scared.

He didn't dare to move; Harry kept him immobilized with just that piercing stare. Another wave of that primal force swept over Sirius, making goose bumps erupt all over his skin, and sent his heart into what seemed to be a bypass. Sirius opened his mouth and, behind them, the window panels shattered into millions of tiny brilliant shards... Sirius was terrified.

"Harry!" Someone screamed from millions miles away, or so it seemed; Harry blinked and the tidal wave stopped just as quickly as it had started. Lupin had moved forwards, shielding Sirius. "What are you going to do, kill him?" He exclaimed. Behind Lupin, Sirius stood up on wobbly legs. He was just glad that his godson had decided to blow the window panes up, and not him. Harry pushed Lupin out of the way and advanced towards Sirius, fire blazing in his green eyes.

"You- You-" His breathing was constricted, cornering Sirius against the wall.

"Harry, please-" Sirius croaked, trying to stand his ground; Harry needed to know how it had happened- the reasons why-

"YOU SICK- YOU TWISTED FUCK!" Harry bellowed, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt. "SHE WAS FIFTEEN!"

"Harry, let him speak!" Lupin urged, trying to pry Harry's hand off Sirius, but he didn't bulge.

"Don't you try to cover up for him, Lupin!" Harry stated, turning his head to glare at him.

"He's right, Remus," Sirius managed to say, grabbing Harry's hands to push him away. Lupin raised his eyebrows at his, shocked. "This is something I must handle." He explained, turning to gaze at his godson again, wiping the blood off his lip with his sleeve. He had seen Harry like this before, in the Shrieking Shack- He knew how to handle this.

"Did you take advantage of her?" Harry spluttered, this time turning red.

"What?" Sirius asked in disbelief, and all of his plans on how to handle Harry ebbed away.

"DID YOU FUCK HER?!" Harry hollered. Now it was Sirius's time to turn to a nice and not-so-healthy shade of red.

"OF COURSE NOT! WOULD YOU STOP SCREAMING AND LISTEN TO ME?!" Sirius shouted, stepping nearer to Harry, who did not move. Lupin stared back and forth at them, afraid that one of them would take their wands out to do something they'd regret afterwards; wondering when was the right moment to intervene and, in the worst case scenario, _Stupefy_ one of them.

"I DON'T WANT TO HEAR ANYTHING YOU HAVE TO SAY!" Harry howled. "GET OUT OF HERE- GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE!" He added, pointing to his bedroom door. Sirius frowned.

"Fine then. Suit yourself," he spat, striding over to the door and opening it. He turned towards Lupin, who had his wand out. "Let's go," he barked.

"But-" They couldn't just leave things like this- What about Hermione? What about the potion?

"If he doesn't want to know, I'm not going to tell him. He can wallow in his fucking self pity," Sirius fiercely retorted, stepping outside the room. Lupin glanced at Harry, who was glaring at the spot where Sirius had stood, and slowly made his way to the door. When he was about to leave the room, he turned to look at Harry.

"I understand why you're angry- I'd be furious if it was me, Harry," Lupin started. "But there are more important things to deal with now. Think about Hermione."

That said, and with a sigh, Lupin closed the door behind him.

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Everyone was, by now, hysterical. Ron, Harry and Tonks had mobilized the entire (now disbanded) Order of the Phoenix; Molly and Lupin checked St. Mungos everyday; the Daily Prophet and Witch Weekly had had a field day with the headline "_Sirius Black... Missing?_" Yes, apparently the famous godfather of the even more famous Harry Potter had ran away from the home he shared with his godson, and no one had been able to find him so far. They had checked every single shop/hotel/bar in Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade, and still there wasn't a sign of Sirius anywhere.

Currently, a very disconcerted Remus Lupin emerged from the Hog's Head, hastily blending with the crowd in hopes of avoiding the media that pestered them so thoroughly these days. Where could Sirius be, really? How could Padfoot be so inconsiderate to just run away from the house without any kind of warning? In all honestly, Sirius had done such thing many times before, but he always showed up two days, three the latest, after the escapade. It had been two weeks now since that fight with Harry.

As Lupin skilfully dodged The Three Broomsticks, his eyes went to the outskirts of Hogsmeade. Sirius had to be in a place where he knew they would not look in; some place really secret- The Shrieking Shack, though it did not fit to Lupin's assumption of 'somewhere real secret' had already been registered. So many places where he could be- The fact that he could transform into a dog did not help, either.

But wait-

Lupin stopped dead in his tracks as he remembered- The cave. The small cave in which Sirius used to hide back in Harry's fourth year! The cave that Dumbledore had discovered... Lupin nearly begun running towards that hill that overlooked the little town, amazed by his sudden discovery. He left the houses and the shops behind, in search for the blasted cave, and finally found it a little bit further away of what he had thought it was. He had to bend over to pass through the entrance and found himself plunging into a comfortable darkness. He started walking, after getting his eyes accustomed to it, and his acute werewolf nose sensed a whiff of alcohol in the air- He frowned at this, sniffing as he moved, and soon enough his search came to fruition.

"Padfoot?" He asked loudly, and his friend looked up at him slowly, with his gaze unfocused. There were bottles all around him, and some leftovers of food. Sirius was slouched against the wall of the cave, very clearly drunk. "Sirius, what in the name of-"

"Remus, my old 'riend!" Sirius slurred, smiling lazily. "Wha' brings you t'my humble abode?" He asked, giggling at his own question. Lupin screwed up his nose at this.

"What are you doing hiding here?" He questioned, peering down at him. "Why did you run away?"

" 'Cos my godson hates me," Sirius hiccupped. "No matter, Moony, no matter," he added, smiling again as he lifted a nearly empty firewhisky bottle. Lupin's frown intensified and grabbed the bottle, wrestling it out of Sirius's grip. "Hey, _thaz_ mine! Give it back!"

"First of all, Harry doesn't hate you," Lupin said, throwing the bottle to a corner, where it smashed. "He's willing to talk to you, at least."

"He hates me now!" Sirius exclaimed, touching his lip as though trying to get his point across.

"No, he doesn't," Lupin repeated. "Come on, let's get you back-" He said. Sirius stared at him for a couple of seconds and then attempted to stand up straight, but ended up falling heavily against Lupin, who sighed and put an arm around Sirius's waist; Sirius put his arm around Lupin's shoulder, but didn't move.

"Y'know, Moony," Sirius started, as Lupin started to drag him forwards, "I _zink_ I had a dream last night."

"Oh, did you?" Lupin said, struggling against Sirius's weight.

"It looked just like one, but I'm not sure..." Sirius trailed off, heaving dangerously. Lupin resisted the need to rub the bridge of his nose as they walked through the short tunnel leading to the entrance of the cave, slightly disgusted with the rancid alcohol smell coming from Sirius.

"What was it about?" Lupin asked, attempting to keep Sirius awake; he didn't fancy carrying him unconscious all the way to a safe apparition point.

"Hermo- Mio-" Hermione's name seemed to be a tad too complicated to be said when one was drunk, so Sirius settled with a "Well, y'know. _Her_." Lupin let out a small exclamation of triumph when they stepped out of the cave into the clean, _wonderfully_ fresh air, while Sirius hissed and covered his eyes as if he was a vampire.

"We're nearly there, Padfoot. So it was about Hermione. And then?" Lupin asked, nearly panting under Sirius's almost dead weight.

"Well, ev'rything was dark, and I couldn't hear nothing," Sirius started, looking thoughtful. "Reminded me of _ze_ Veil, y'see... I was just floatin' 'round... Minding me own business..." Sirius continued in a slur, cursing under his breath as he tripped with a small rock in the pathway, "Then she appeared! Her hair was all floaty-"

"_Floaty_?" Lupin interrupted, trying to keep both their balances as they walked downhill. To his immense relief, the town was near.

"Yeh... Like we were underwater or somethin'... Well, she smiled and started touchin' my face like she was goin' to cry 'cause she was so 'appy-" Sirius's eyes looked dreamy, delighted, as he remembered this part. "And I said, I said to her- 'What's wrong?' and she told me 'you're 'ere, you're 'ere-"

"You're _here_, you mean?" Lupin asked; it had always annoyed him trying to decipher what drunken people were saying. They finally reached a deserted little alley, near Madame Puddifoot's.

"Tha's right," Sirius said with a grin, ducking his head. "But then as I was 'bout to hug her, can you believe it, Moony, she was pulled backwards! Like somethin' had grabbed her feet and pulled her 'way from me-" He growled. "And she stretched her arms like she wanted to hold on to me, but I couldn' reach her... And when I looked at 'er face, 'efore she disappeared, she was dead..." Sirius finished, and his voice died down as he hiccupped again.

"That's terrible," Lupin said, leaning against the nearest brick wall, regaining his breath. "How did you know she was...?"

"'Er eyes were wide open, and 'er mouth too," Sirius whispered, closing his eyes and leaning unto Lupin again.

"Okay, we'll apparate now. Hold my arm tightly," Lupin said, knowing that his friend was about to pass out.

"'S alright, Moony..." Sirius replied, gripping Lupin's arm. _"I better get paid for this,"_ was the only thought that ran through Lupin's mind as he closed his eyes and focused on getting them both to Grimmauld Place's living room.

The following day, his head felt like someone had ran over it repeatedly. Everything was blurry, his throat was dry, and he felt slightly nauseous. In fact, he remembered how many firewhisky he had drank and his stomach turned over most unpleasantly. He vaguely recalled Lupin taking him out of that cave and into Hogsmeade... Then Sirius had passed out, for he couldn't remember anything more. As he sat up in his bed and his head throbbed, he also remembered why he had escaped into that cave.

Harry had called him a twisted fuck... He knew about the affair... What would Sirius tell him? Would Harry call Hermione a pervert too, if he knew that she had been the one who started it?

At these questions his head seemed to protest, so he stood up and waltzed towards his bedroom door, wondering what time it was. The hallways were quiet... Sirius reached the stairs and tightly grabbed the rail, not completely trusting his legs, and slowly he descended the steps. When he reached the ground floor, his head was about to split in two, and not to mention his stomach. He was never going to drink again. When he finally entered the kitchen, it was empty. Without even daring to think of anything food related, Sirius went over the table and heavily sat on one of the chairs, crossing his arms on the wooden surface to rest his head there.

"About time," a familiar voice said, making Sirius snap his head upwards. He had to slightly narrow his eyes to focus the person in front of him, and almost threw up when he distinguished Harry standing in front of him. He wasn't ready to deal with this yet; couldn't he work out the hangover he was suffering of first?

"What time is it?" Sirius asked groggily. Harry shook his head as he sat down opposite to him.

"Nearly two in the afternoon."

"Oh."

An awkward silence fell over them, and none of them spoke for a while. How to start? Where to finish?

"Harry," Sirius finally gave in, "Look... I'm sorry. I should've told you earlier about it," he said.

"In fact, I found myself very tempted to _Obliviate_ myself," Harry retorted, and then he sighed. "I'm sorry I hit you. I was already upset, so I guess I overreacted."

"Can't say I blame you," Sirius honestly told him. "You know, Harry... I never... I never intended things to get so out of hand."

"So you used her, then?" Harry asked, frowning. Sirius quickly shook his head at this, fearing another row.

"No, no of course not- That's not what I meant-"

"Did you fancy her?"

Sirius breathed in deeply at this, and nodded slowly.

"I did. Very much..." He would have liked to say 'I fell in love with her' but it felt like it was too much, and too soon, to admit something like that. Maybe someday, he could tell his godson what his true feelings were.

"Was she happy?" Harry questioned.

"Yes," Sirius responded barely above a whisper. Harry looked away and nodded at his answer, his face impassive. Another long silence enveloped them.

"Lupin finished the book," Harry broke the silence, still avoiding Sirius's eyes.

"Oh?"

"We found out why you look younger," Harry commented. "But you were busy hiding and getting pissed in that cave, so we couldn't tell you," he added. Sirius swallowed at the jibe.

"I deserved that," he muttered, looking down.

"Four of your birthdays went by while you were inside the Veil," Harry said, ignoring Sirius's last comment. "When you fell you were thirty six, but now you are thirty two. Apparently, the longer you are inside, the younger you become, until you eventually disappear," he explained. Sirius raised his eyebrows at this new information. He was thirty two again?

"So if we bring... Hermione back, she'll be nineteen?" Sirius wanted to know.

"Yeah."

"But- But we _will_ bring her back, won't we?" Sirius hesitantly asked. He remembered what Draco had said all those days ago, and wondered if anyone had told his godson about it.

"I can't see why not," Harry finally said, visibly tense. "Despite all the things she did," he continued, his voice quivering for a second, "We can't just sit by idly if we have a chance of bringing her back." Sirius agreed with his head.

"I'm sorry," Sirius suddenly said. Harry shrugged.

"Hermione chose you over me- There's little I can do about that." Harry replied bitterly, but not angrily. Sirius sighed.

"Will you forgive her? Could you ever forgive... Us?" He asked, bracing himself for a particularly nasty hex. Harry gazed at him and bored his eyes into Sirius's, his brow lightly furrowed.

"I still think you're a sick bastard," Harry started calmly. "But if she was happy, and you _could_ make her happy –apparently, I couldn't- then I may forgive you two someday."

Sirius grinned at this response, finally able to breathe normally. Sure, he would've preferred Harry to tell him that he had already forgiven him (and her); but given the situation at hand, he honestly could not have hoped for a better answer coming from his godson.

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A/N: Well, there it is- Hoped you liked it! I certainly did, especially the two Harry- Sirius moments... If you feel like reviewing, that would be lovely! –more than lovely, actually- Feedback is most appreciated.


	25. Risk

Risk

A/N: Hello there! First of all, thanks for those great reviews. And now for a relatively long and important, at least for me, author's note:

I must admit that this chapter took so long to be posted because I, ashamed as I am to admit it, got pretty angry with some of the readers of this story and the other one I'm working on... I got so mad that I seriously considered taking both stories down. Last chapter was hit 312 times and I only got eleven reviews (_amazing_ ones, of course, this author's note is **not** for you guys!), but only eleven. And even though I realize that some of you don't feel like reviewing because maybe you feel that you have nothing important or different to say; maybe others are lazy, whatever... I post stories here simply because I love writing them, and I love the fact that you folk read them. I'm not going to delay the updates or stop posting chapters, and I will most certainly not take this story down, but, as long as I'm being honest, it's just disheartening to get only eleven reviews out of 312 hits. That's all I'm saying.

But enough of me. Please, enjoy the chapter!

Disclaimer: No, just the plot... Thank you.

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After that day, they decided not to tell anybody else about the fight or the secret. Now that the biggest piece of the puzzle had been placed in its rightful spot, the grief of Hermione's suicide was, so to speak, easier to handle... After all, what had happened between Sirius and Hermione was nobody's business but their own, despite the fact that Lupin, Tonks and Harry knew about it.

Not that the others didn't notice that something was off when it came to the relationship between godfather and godson- the two behaved distinctly awkward, when together, a slightly brisk and tart (from Harry's part) behavior; but other than that, it was okay. Ron, for example, had tried to talk to Harry about this, wondering if they had fought, but for all the answers he got, Ron could've easily interrogated a wall. Harry was not an easy nut to crack, and neither was Sirius. After they had read the book, everyone grew noticeably hopeful and excited with the prospect that Hermione would, perhaps, return; except for, once again, Sirius and Harry. The subject of Hermione Granger, between them, was apparently out of bounds for some unknown reason. Whenever her name was pronounced in their presence Sirius grew strangely mute, while Harry suffered from a most intriguing deafness, Lupin started coughing and Tonks examined her nails. Eventually, as time passed, the rest of the people involved got used to these behaviors.

The potion was already being prepared; the calculations made led them to believe that Hermione was to be 'rescued' somewhere in January, or the beginnings of February. Each and one of the ingredients, save for the blood, took a month to brew, so they took turns to go into Knockturn alley and acquire them- the alley was still a fishy place to be found in, and the last thing they needed was to raise suspicions as to why the Boy Who Lived, and the ever famous Sirius Black, wandered through the streets of that accursed, dark nestle of, shall we say, evilness. Having Draco as an acquaintance proved to be very helpful, though. Discounts and some of the trickier ingredients for free... Ron told Ginny that 'at last, you marrying the ferret proved to be useful'- it took weeks for Ronald's eyebrows to grow back satisfactorily.

And talking about marriage and couples, Ron and Luna were wed in September. Predictably, Harry was the best man. And, just like it had happened to Ginny and Draco, it had been difficult and sad to think (and on some levels, realize) that Hermione could not be the maid of honor, and that her name wouldn't be written down on the guest list. This fact was less depressing now that they knew that there was a chance that Hermione could return, but that didn't mean that it didn't hurt when, entering the church, that bushy brown hair had been missing. One month later, Ginny had happily announced that she was pregnant.

On November, Harry finally decided to venture into Hermione's room, for Lupin wanted to know how she had dealt with the brewing of the potion, among other things, so Harry had volunteered to enter that no man's land to retrieve the notes she had written. Nobody stopped him, and nobody tried to talk him out of it: it had been a year since her death, after all.

Sirius fidgeted on the couch, in the living room, for nearly five hours before he heard the noise of a door opening and closing again. Unconsciously, Sirius started biting the nail of his index finger as he stared at the stairs, waiting for Harry to come down, and swallowed softly when he saw Harry's legs, hands (carrying a small stack of parchments), arms, neck... face. It was impassive, pale; the mask Harry always adopted when it came to Hermione. An anxious silence followed Harry as he walked over to the living room and sat down on a chintz chair opposite to the couch, depositing the stack of parchment on the coffee table gently.

"I read what she wrote," Harry broke the silence, gazing at Sirius. "She tried to come up with something to avoid sleeping with me," he whispered, making Sirius's insides shrink considerably. What to say to that? Could he say something? "She wasn't happy about the idea," he added with a bitter smirk.

"She knew it'd hurt you," Sirius replied shyly. "She loved you, you know... As a friend, but she did." Harry's face slid to neutral again, breaking eye contact.

"I know." Sirius nodded and resisted the temptation to look at the notes Hermione had once written, mostly out of respect for Harry's feelings. Though they could not ignore (they had tried, for a while) the relationship Sirius and Hermione had shared, both godson and godfather had arrived to a mutual agreement of respect and silence...

"Sirius?"... That could sometimes be breached. "Did she love you?" Harry's voice was almost a bored drawl; Sirius raised his eyebrows at the question. "I mean... I know she did; otherwise you wouldn't be here, but... Did she ever tell you?" Harry was not looking at him. Sirius frowned slightly, wondering if he should lie to Harry, wondering if it would hurt him even further with the answer... But decided to tell the truth. If he lied again, regarding Hermione, he might lose his godson forever...

"Yes. When we... You know... Went our separate ways," Sirius replied slowly, his voice lowering at the last words. Harry nodded.

"Who told the other that it was over?" He wanted to know. Sirius breathed in deeply.

"I did..." he trailed off, not wanting to remember Hermione broken hearted, telling him that they could work it out. Now Harry looked at him, frowning slightly.

"You?" He asked, amazed. "She didn't want to?" Sirius sighed and straightened his back, sitting up on the couch.

"Do you really want to know this, Harry?"

"Yes." He said, also straightening on the chair. Sirius nodded and ran his fingers through his hair, agreeing with his head.

"We both... We both knew it would eventually happen," he started. "But it was I who told her that we couldn't be together. Think whatever you want to think, Harry, but I knew that I couldn't deprive her of a life with someone her own age. Hermione knew that I was right, she told me so, but she didn't want to break up... That was when she told me she loved me."

"And you? Did you want to break up?" Harry asked.

"No. I knew it was wrong, we both knew, but I still didn't want to..." He trailed off, shaking his head like a wet dog. Harry narrowed his eyes at him, as though processing what Sirius had just said.

"Who made the first move?" Harry questioned at the end, making Sirius swallow nervously.

"Harry..."

"Just tell me. I promise I won't sock you one," Harry retorted, with the ghost of a smile on his lips. Sirius let out a relieved breath, thanking Merlin that at least Harry was joking about what had happened at the beginning of the year.

"She did," Sirius responded, bracing himself for whatever insult that his godson could call him; however, Harry didn't say anything at first.

"Quite the vixen she was," he said at last, smiling.

"What?!" Sirius spluttered, bewildered.

"I didn't mean it as an insult," Harry replied immediately. "It's just that she kissed me first, too."

"Oh," Sirius managed to reply, still shocked at the comment. "Do all these questions mean that you're starting to forgive us?" He asked slightly fearfully. Harry bored his eyes into Sirius's and shrugged.

"It's a bit easier, now," he only told him, and Sirius understood.

"Good."

---

December went by without any major events, save for the last ingredient being thrown into the potion at New Year's Eve. And now, at the end of January, the blood had to be added; and they had to decide who would enter the realm of the Veil to, hopefully, bring Hermione back. Grimmauld Place once again greeted Ron, Luna, Ginny, Draco, Lupin and Tonks for the last arrangements. Currently they were all in the kitchen, Sirius and Harry included, surrounding the very same goblet in which Hermione had poured her potion, now refilled with the identical crystal clear liquid.

"Well," Lupin started after cleaning his throat. "I believe we all know what must be done now?" He asked. Everyone nodded, but no one spoke. "Now, the success of this potion not only depends of the quantity of blood that it's poured in it, but also of its purity." At this statement Ron shot an ugly look at Malfoy, while Harry raised his right eyebrow.

"What do you mean by purity?" Luna asked.

"Purity in the way that, for example, I don't think that Draco should offer his blood, simply because he doesn't care that much about Hermione... He doesn't love her, whether as a friend or something more... He just likes her." Lupin told them. "And that goes not only for him, but to Tonks and myself, too," he added. "So that leaves Harry, Ron, Luna, Ginny-"

"And Sirius," Ron completed. Lupin coughed slightly.

"Yes, and Sirius," he agreed. "So..." He left the sentence hanging as he took a petite vase and a pin from his pocket, placing them on the table, next to the silver goblet, and then he proceeded to grab his wand. "Who wants to go first?"

"I," Harry said at once, extending his index finger. Lupin smiled at him and, pointing the tip of the wand on his finger, muttered the very same spell Hermione had used a year ago. Everyone stared in morbid curiosity as Lupin carefully grabbed the pin and broke Harry's skin with it, placing the small wound over the glass. Three droplets of blood fell into it slowly... Harry stared at the process feeling detached from it; had Hermione done this to him while he slept? Lupin nodded solemnly and he let Harry's blood fall into the potion, which glowed black and then turned bright red.

"Now, according to the book, the shade needs to be as dark as possible," Lupin said. "Who's next?"

"Me," Ron said, and they repeated the same process with him, Luna, and Ginny. When Sirius's turn came, the potion already sported the dark maroon color of blood; when his blood was added the shade of maroon was barely distinguishable from plain black. Lupin widened his eyes at this but chose not to say anything, not wanting to upset Harry or let the others discover the secret that Sirius and Harry had worked so hard to keep; not to mention Hermione herself.

"Who's going to go inside the Veil?" Tonks asked no one in particular, drawing the attention away from the potion.

"I say Sirius," Luna commented, taking her index finger away from her mouth. Harry stiffened, Sirius tensed, Tonks suddenly found the goblet very interesting and Lupin sighed deeply. "I mean, he has already been there before, hasn't he?"

"Besides, Hermione exchanged her body for his," Ginny said. "It's only fair... Not to put any pressure on you, Sirius," she added, gazing at Sirius, who shook his head and looked up bravely.

"If Harry's alright with it, I'll go." He said, staring at his godson. Harry seemed to consider it for a couple of minutes, and then raised his chin in a critical manner.

"If you don't want to, I'll do it." He replied.

"I _want_ to do it... I'll go," Sirius retorted, also raising his chin. If Lupin had not known better, the scene could have been interpreted like they were both fighting over Hermione...

"Okay then, Sirius it is," Ron said, looking around the table. All nodded save for Harry, who only shrugged.

"Excuse me," Draco spoke for the first time, "What are we going to do with the imprint Sirius needs to carry?"

Absolute silence greeted this question. No one moved.

"I won't shag anyone," Sirius finally stated.

"But without the imprint we risk losing both of you," Lupin argued.

"Who do you want me to sleep with, Remus?" Sirius wanted to know, frowning. "Ginny, Luna? They're both married. Ron? _Harry_?" He asked incredulously.

"Oh, eww," Ginny made a face, and Ron and Harry both sported utterly disgusted looks.

"Yeah, that was a mental image I didn't need," Ron agreed.

"We'll just have to send you without the imprint, then? How dangerous is that?" she asked fearfully. Lupin shook his head.

"I don't know," he admitted. "The quality and purity of the blood is very good, though, and it comes from five different people... Hermione threw herself in with the blood of only one person, one imprint... And Sirius came back," he said.

"It's a risk we must take, I'm afraid," Sirius retorted. "And I for one think that having Hermione back is worth it."

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A/N: Well, there it is. I hope that you liked it... We're very near the end of the story, I've noticed... Looks like many of you felt like Sirius deserved the punch Harry gave him... Should I take it that Sirius does not deserve Hermione after all...? Mmm... Until next chapter!


	26. Beyond the Veil

Beyond the Veil

A/N: Hey there! Thank you for those wonderful reviews. You guys make me feel so happy and giddy... I'd like to say that I'm sorry if I came out too strong about the lack of reviews- I'd should be thankful that you guys read this and enjoy it, instead of bitching around because I don't get more reviews, so sorry and thank you, again. One more thing- the question about Sirius not deserving Hermione was not meant to be taken seriously, but it's nice to know that after all that has happened to them in this story, you still want them together.

Enough of me. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: No, no, just the plot.

"_Baby, I've been here before  
I've seen this room and I've walked this floor  
I used to live alone before I knew you...  
I've seen your flag on the marble arch  
But love is not some victory march:  
It's a cold and it's a broken hallelujah."_

"**_Hallelujah"- Imagen Heap._**

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February the first.

The cold and the remaining snow were merely the physical sights of their emotions; something that they could touch and feel. It was as though the weather was the requiem for their anxiety and nervousness for what was to happen that very night. None of them spoke too much, and every smile or laugh sounded forced; they just fidgeted and paced, or ate too much, or simply tried to distract themselves for the looming fear that was also to fall on them later.

Everything was ready; even the people who were going to witness what could be another miracle, or another suicide. In Grimmauld Place Harry and Sirius only sat in the living room, without speaking, lost in their thoughts and insecurities; each of them wondering if they'd see the other again. In the Malfoy Manor Ginny compulsively swept the floors, washed dishes and ate, while Draco tried to remind her that she was pregnant and had to calm down. In their little flat near Diagon Alley Luna attempted to get some work done, while Ron simply walked around the house like a ghost, clutching his stomach now and then while muttering to himself. In Lupin's house Tonks tripped with chairs and carpets and burnt lunch, while Lupin read and reread _The Veiled Mysteries_ to the point that several pages ripped and he had to _Reparo_ them.

And so the day went on, in that endless apprehensive silence, and pacing, and dreadful thoughts, and nervous nauseas... The sun finally reached the horizon and set slowly, yet hastily; the temperature dropped dramatically, and the cold wind howled and whistled through the streets and the trees as the time approached when they had to reunite in the Atrium of the Ministry of Magic. The clouds that covered the sky glowed with a faded purple color as all of them took a peek through the windows, as they fastened the cloaks around their shoulders and placed the scarves around their necks.

**10.00 p.m.**

If Harry's, Ron's, and Ginny's assumptions were correct, Hermione had thrown herself through the Veil somewhere near ten thirty or so; therefore Sirius had to fall through it at that hour.

The Atrium seemed to get scarier and scarier on every occasion they visited it, but maybe it was because of the memories and the going-on's that they had undergone there. The faces of the statues in the Fountain of Brethren seemed deformed by the darkness and the shadows... Sirius's grip around the goblet tightened almost by reflex, as he stared at the Fountain.

"They should be here," Harry's faint voice broke the silence, and Sirius turned to look at him and nodded. Since yesterday, when it was decided that Sirius would return to the Veil, they had not talked save for 'good night', 'good morning' and 'we should get going'. Truth to be told, neither Sirius nor Harry knew how to exactly approach one another about Hermione or the potion. Would they see each other again? What to do with the uncertainty, and the fear? How to convey those emotions into words, or actions?

The sound of someone apparating behind them made them turn around quickly; Ginny and Draco nodded at them without a word, walking towards them. Minutes and four 'cracks' later, Ron, Luna, Lupin and Tonks joined them in equal silence. When they were all there Ginny walked towards the elevator and pressed the button to open the doors; they all crammed inside the lift and Draco pressed the number nine... It was difficult to breathe in there; it was like being in a fog laden moor instead of a metallic box; the memories flew among them like bothersome flies that they couldn't kill- No Dementor could have made a better job of draining them of any kind of hopeful or happy feeling... Merely because the very Ministry had already done so.

The elevator shook when it stopped, and it rattled slightly as the doors opened to reveal the dark corridor and the door at the end of it. The first ones to step out of the elevator were Lupin, Sirius and Harry; but Ginny and Ron did need some coaxing from their partners so they could also get out of the lift. Ron was so pale that his freckles seemed bigger and Ginny sported a nasty shade of green, clutching her throat. Tonks wound her arm around Lupin's as they started waking; Sirius and Harry merely glanced at each other. The torches innocently flared as they went pass them, illuminating the path towards the door. Their footsteps resounded in the corridor and their anxious breaths meshed as Sirius lifted his hand and pushed the black door open to reveal the circular room. Once everyone was inside Ron closed the door behind them, and the room spun. For once, nobody closed their eyes to prevent the blue fire leaving streaks of blue embedded in their pupils.

And no one spoke, still...

The room came to a halt and they all gazed at the identical yet different doors, wondering who would pronounce the words to open the right one... Tonks did, and the door in front of them opened slowly. Harry's Adam's apple bobbed up and down as he tried to swallow, for his mouth was so dry, as he walked towards the door with Sirius close behind him. When he trespassed the doorframe, the few torches in that room lit, giving him a clear sight of the sunken pit and the Veil, which fluttered in welcome. Sirius stood next to him, feeling his throat clench, curling his fingers around the goblet with a death like grip. He could not believe that he would be falling into that bottomless darkness again... He knew he was doing this for Hermione, and he didn't regret his decision of volunteering, but it _was_ bizarre... No, not bizarre. More like... Surreal. Yes, that was it.

"Should we go down, then?" Luna's whisper brought them all out of their trains of thoughts. Like a group of rabbits about to enter a nest of vipers they went down the stone staircases, trying not to pay attention to the whispers coming from behind the Veil, trying to lure them to enter the realm, to touch the dais... They crowded in a semicircle around the dais, trying in vain to appear cool and calmed with the situation at hand, but they all failed dismally.

Now that they were there, in front of the jittering Veil, the weight of what they were about to do fell upon them with cruel force. The risk that both Sirius and Hermione could be lost forever was a big one... And if that should happen, what would they do with the guilt that they had sent Sirius to his death, once again? Would Harry be able to take it? Would they be able to live with the remorse?

"Well..." Lupin trailed off barely above a whisper, not knowing what else to say. The words were stuck in his throat, deeming useless. Sirius glanced at him with his eyes opaque, and handed him the goblet full of the potion. "Sirius, what-"

"Hold this," His friend requested in a gruff whisper; the goblet shaking slightly. Lupin raised his eyebrows and did as told, carefully cradling the goblet in his hands. No one said anything as Sirius turned towards Harry and put his hand on his shoulder, mutely asking his godson to turn around. When Harry did, and before he could even make a gesture, Sirius enveloped him in a hug. Suddenly what had happened between Harry and Hermione (and Sirius and Hermione, by default) didn't seem all that terrible; the abyss was somehow not as big as it had once been. Much to Sirius's surprise, Harry hugged him back with equal force.

"If you don't come back with her, I'm punching you again," Harry told him, trying in vain to sound cheerful.

"Something to look forwards to," Sirius replied with the same voice, trying to smile convincingly. Harry's smile faded from his face as he gazed at Sirius, looking as though he wanted to say something but couldn't get it out. "See you later then, Harry?" Sirius added, not wanting to hear any 'goodbye', or 'forgive me for everything I did'. He didn't want to hear any farewells. Harry swallowed and agreed with his head.

"See you later."

It was Harry's turn to hold the goblet when Sirius turned to hug Lupin, not as strongly as Harry, but enough for Lupin to understand how Sirius was feeling. As Ron and Draco took turns to shake his godfather's hand, Harry wondered how Hermione had felt when she threw herself through the Veil, all alone in this horrible room, with no one to bid her farewell. Had she cried? Had the sound of her tears been magnified by the silent room; the soft falling of teardrops on the floor?

"It's time," Lupin's voice broke his reverie. Harry tried to control his emotions as he saw Sirius breathe in deeply and grab the goblet. He had the urge to tell Sirius to stop, but he didn't. He had the urge to tell him that he loved him, but he didn't open his mouth. Sirius lifted the goblet to his lips and, for a second, Harry remembered Dumbledore drinking the potion inside the basin which contained the false Horcrux, and his stomach turned over unpleasantly. Everyone stared at Sirius drinking the potion inside the goblet, containing their breaths, wondering what it would do to him... Sirius coughed soundly and let the empty goblet fall to the floor, grimacing and shuddering.

"What's wrong??" Ginny squeaked. Sirius continued coughing and crouched over slightly.

"Padfoot! Are you alright?" Lupin urgently asked, going over towards Sirius.

"It- It tastes like condensed blood," Sirius managed to say. Next to Harry, Luna and Ron let out an identical strangled gasp as Harry widened his eyes and let his jaw fall open. A sort of white light encased his godfather's body for a couple of seconds, and he stopped coughing. Sirius straightened his back and his eyes opened completely; his pupils were dilated. He looked... possessed...

Without another word and without a last glance, Sirius mechanically walked towards the dais, climbed the one step, and stiffly as a board simply let himself fall forwards, through the Veil, and his body was engulfed by the fabric with a soft whisper. The remaining persons in the room fixedly stared at the Veil, frozen, incapable of articulating a single word. What had just happened? Had Sirius thrown himself into the Veil again? Was it a dream, a nightmare? It was- It was too soon, it had happened so quickly, so rashly! Harry's altered mind once again decided to think of Hermione, as his wide, horrified eyes stared at the never ending, wave like movement of the Veil.

Had that happened to her, too? Had she tasted his blood on her mouth? Had she cried while she muttered the incantation that would bring Sirius back? The questions went round his head without a pause, but he couldn't find any reasonable answers. Maybe she had cried out of sadness and loneliness. What could he have done to ease her pain, and to dry her tears...?

The whispers coming from the Veil grew in his ears, but he knew better than to listen to them. They only had to wait...

--

They checked the courtroom every single day from that night on, to see if Sirius and Hermione had returned. No one wanted to be alone anymore, in these desperate and uncertain days; no, not alone anymore. The very Minister of Magic and the Unspeakables had been informed what had gone on inside the courtroom, so no one questioned neither Harry nor Ron when they went inside the room to check.

Lupin had informed them that, according to the book, Sirius had a sort of deadline to return from the realm of the Veil, into the world of the living once more. Hermione had made Sirius return within her own deadline, for instance. According to the calculations of the time and the quality and quantity of the ingredients, Sirius had to return with Hermione before or on February the 26th- that was the deadline.

When that day came, Harry, Ron and Lupin mounted guard inside the Courtroom throughout the whole day, sitting on the benches and just staring at the Veil in expectant silence. And they waited. And waited.

Harry's watch indicated that it was midnight already, and neither Sirius nor Hermione had crawled out of the Veil yet.

At one o'clock, the Veil fluttered as though a breeze had flown, but nothing happened. They would appear any minute now, Harry was certain of it. They just had to wait a bit more.

At two o'clock, Ron (for a couple of seconds) could glimpse the darkness that lay beyond the Veil, but the fabric returned to its original position as quickly has it had trembled.

At three o'clock, they realized that the deadline had long become obsolete, and that Sirius had not returned with Hermione.

It wasn't until Harry felt someone's hand on his shoulder that he realized that he was crying.

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A/N: For some bizarre reason, a knot lodged in my throat as I wrote the last part... I hope that you liked this! If I'm not much mistaken, there are only two chapters left until the ending... Now I hope that you'll leave me a review to let me know what you thought of this chapter!


	27. Awakening

Awakening

(Technical issues, so I'm re-posting this one)

A/N: Hello everybody! First of all, thank you for those amazing reviews... I wish I could tell you how happy I am that you like this story. I'd like to apologize for the delay in this chapter; my computer broke down because of a virus (I almost have a _fit!_). But here's the chapter, so... Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Alas, no... Just the plot.

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They were dead, they were dead…

Both of them were gone, _gone_, sucked by the Veil, and they had all allowed Sirius to fall into that limbo again. If only they hadn't said anything, if only _he_ had never mentioned that black book!

It was his fault... There was no one else to blame but himself, he knew.

Dead, dead, dead; he'd never see Sirius again! He should have looked for Hermione, he should have talked Sirius out of it; goodness, how could he have been so selfish? _Kill me, kill me too, I don't want to be alive anymore..._

"Harry... Harry."

The whisper could barely reach his acknowledgement; the words had to fight and push aside the loud and relentless voices inside his head... The hand on his shoulder squeezed.

"Look, mate, look!"

Still trying to decide if his eyes were blurry because of the tears or the dizziness he was experiencing, Harry slowly looked up to the dais and saw... Saw... Them. He saw- They were _there_. Lupin, he was- he was kneeling next to the crumpled figure of Sirius, and there was another limp figure lying next to him. Was that...? But how could they be there, after the deadline? They were both unconscious, that was for sure.

Harry's eye twitched involuntarily, and then... Well, he never was quite sure of how it had happened, really. Maybe he ran towards them, or jumped, or fell down the benches (that could explain the pain on his chest); fact was that Harry suddenly found himself, breathless, staring into the face of his godfather. Harry touched Sirius's shoulder and shakily grinned; Harry didn't even know how he was feeling. He was torn between incommensurable happiness and deep shock, or disbelief. With his jaw open he turned to gaze at Lupin, who was also grinning.

Harry, swallowing, let his eyes fall on the other person lying next to Sirius, and felt the air shorten in his lungs. Hermione's face was just as he remembered it... She was much paler now, and her long, curly hair was messily strewn all around her head. She looked so fragile... Harry's trembling hand reached out to grab hers, and his eyes blurred when he felt her soft skin against his again- Hermione was there, _right in front of him_... Somewhere behind him Ron and Lupin were talking, but he paid no heed to their voices.

Harry gently left her hand on the floor and moved forwards to grab her shoulders, hoisting her up gently, and hugged her tightly. He knew that she wouldn't return the embrace, but he didn't care. Her skin was cold, but it was _there_; her head touching his tear strained cheek. Even if he had tried, Harry would never be able to describe what he had felt during those precious minutes in which he held her again. He didn't want to let her go, for he feared that she would fade into thin air and leave him again...

"Harry," A hoarse voice broke his train of thought, and he closed his eyes as if it could prevent him from hearing anything. "Harry, we must take them to St. Mungos," The voice Harry recognized as Ron's told him.

"No," Harry whispered. He didn't know why he was feeling the way he was feeling, but he did know that he didn't want to lose sight of Hermione again.

"We must," Another voice, this time Lupin's, retorted. "I promise you'll get to see them again, Harry, but we can't stay here." Harry looked up with a scowl and noticed Lupin's distressed semblance.

"Are they okay?" Ron asked, also noticing the look on their old professor too.

"I don't know," Lupin said barely above a whisper. "They should be awake," he added. Harry's overwhelmed brain didn't want to register what could that mean, no, not yet. _He_ was still waiting to wake up, truth to be told.

"What about Sirius?" Harry managed to ask, still cradling Hermione in his arms. Lupin sighed.

"We have to go, Harry, come on-"

"What's wrong with him?" Harry cut him off loudly. Lupin didn't answer as he turned around and took out his wand, muttering the _Mobilicorpus _to lift Sirius's inanimate body into the air. Harry, still unconvinced of leaving that place, lifted Hermione in his arms like he had done when she had had the overdose, and started walking behind Lupin in silence, with Ron after him.

--

The mediwizard looked at them sternly through his glasses, frowning. He was no stranger when it came to bizarre spells, unusual rarities and every weird occurrence that came with working in St. Mungos, but it could be said that this escaped his field of expertise. A red eyed Harry Potter was holding the body of a girl which looked strangely familiar, and another man was levitating the infamous Sirius Black, while a freckled boy who looked on the edge of hysteria stared imploringly at him. "What exactly happened?" The mediwizard asked again.

"They returned from the Veil, the Veil in the Department of Mysteries," the freckled boy said.

"What Veil? I'm not an Unspeakable," The wizard replied dryly.

"It's not that complicated!" Harry Potter suddenly snapped. "The Veil is supposed to act like a sort of limbo. My best friend threw herself through it, and my godfather threw himself in, and he drank a special potion, so he could bring her back," Harry explained.

"And that's not complicated?"

"Look, could you just do your job and see what's wrong with them?" Harry asked angrily. Lupin threw Harry a warning look.

"You see, they should be awake," Lupin said, looking back at the doctor. "Neither of them responds, and they're cold," he added. The mediwizard raised his chin as he examined Sirius, and he nodded.

"We'll take them to the third floor, since they were... er... brought back by a potion," the mediwizard said, beckoning two other mediwizards with his index finger, "while we take them there, would you mind explaining this to me with some more detail?" He asked Lupin, who nodded as he lowered Sirius into the stretcher one of the mediwizards had conjured.

"Sir, I'll need you to place her on the stretcher-"

"I'll carry her there, okay?" Harry retorted with a frown, tightening his grip on Hermione's body on reflex. Ron put his hand over Harry's shoulder, biting his lower lip.

"We'll see her later, mate... As you so rightly said, let them to their job," he told him in a low voice. Harry opened his mouth to argue, but at Ron's gaze he closed it seconds after and reluctantly placed Hermione on the stretcher, smacking his lips together tightly. He saw no point in trying to hide the fact that he felt afraid (quite helpless, too) and anxious, because he knew perfectly well that if he bottled his feelings up again, he might as well take down the whole hospital for having taken Hermione and his godfather away from him once more.

For a couple of seconds he wished he was a little boy so he could scream and cry that he didn't want them to go, that they should stay with him; he wished he could have a tantrum and tell everyone that he didn't like the way he was feeling, and that someone should change the way the world was turning, if it would mean for things to fall back into place once and for all... He wanted to stamp his foot on the floor, like a three year old child.

But he would have to act his age, it seemed. Act calmly, with a sense of poise and rationality... And he hated that fact.

--

"But you must understand, miss, that the laws of nature-"

"I don't care about the laws of nature! Why haven't they woken up?" Harry smirked sadly at Ginny's commanding tone of voice, from his chair in between Sirius's bed and Hermione's. It had been a week and a half since they had returned. Currently, it was 11 p.m., and the healer was starting to tell Sirius's and Hermione's visitors out of the room, save for Harry of course.

"We are doing the best that we can; the effort involved in what Mr. Black almost killed him-"

"And what about my friend?" Ginny's voice shook at the last part. The healer apparently decided to lower the tones of his voice, because Harry couldn't hear anything but whispers after that. He hadn't eaten in days, and he had slept, what, five hours in two days now? And yet he didn't dare to fall asleep- he didn't dare to let sleep overtake him. What if one, or both, of them died and Harry slept by it idly? What if they woke up and there was no one to grasp their hands in reassurance?

The whispers and the footsteps faded away, followed by the soft sound of a door closing, and once again Harry found himself accompanied by that abysmal silence that always seemed to follow him these days. With a prolonged sigh, Harry glanced at his godfather and his pale, gaunt features. What would they do if they woke up? Would his godfather return to Hermione? And how would Harry make of that? All the issues that had seemed so insignificant when he had seen Sirius with Hermione, crumpled in front of the Veil, had finally lodged themselves in Harry's brain, tormenting him. The fact that Sirius had been in a relationship with Hermione when she was fifteen was something that he still couldn't quite swallow. Harry breathed in deeply and moved a white curtain around his godfather's bed, concealing him from view. He'd have to do the same thing with Hermione's too, soon.

So that had been the reason Hermione had had an overdose? That was why she kept entering Sirius's room? The answer to all the questions now deemed so obvious that it was almost ridiculous. How could he not see it? Harry's eyes traveled to the bed next to him, and to its occupant. On its own volition, Harry's hand entwined with Hermione's. He had been suspicious, he remembered. But the idea of her loving Sirius was just so... so far fetched... And Hermione had successfully made him consider that very idea so outraging, too. Had she been so mistaken in doing so? If Hermione had told him about Sirius and her, what would Harry have done? How would he have treated her?

With his right hand, Harry rubbed his tired eyes and, with his left squeezed Hermione's hand... And _she squeezed back_?! Harry immediately sat next to her on the bed, staring intently at her face with widened eyes, squeezing her hand again. His breathing got caught in his throat, and his heart was beating so fast and hard it hurt.

Hermione felt warm, comfortable, and strangely heavy. She had never felt as heavy as she did now. She wondered why that was? She felt something warm touch her hand; it felt as if a speck of warm light had made its way through the darkness that had usually surrounded her. Wherever she was, she felt comfortable, and didn't have any intention of leaving any time soon. With a small struggle she opened her eyes, trying to look around her, but it was useless- she could hardly see a thing.

"Hermione? Are you awake?" That voice, why did it sound so familiar to her? Since when she _breathed_ again? Something wasn't right here. "Hermione?" The voice repeated.

She was suddenly blinded when the lights at the top of her bed blazed on. She hissed.

"Hermione- Can you hear me?"

Hermione narrowed her eyes, blinking, and looked upwards at the blurry face just above hers. She blinked a couple more times and slowly, the face she had least expected to ever see again came into focus. Where was she? What was Harry doing there? In a split second, everything flooded back to her with the delicacy of a rampant Hippogriff. She tore her eyes away from his and wildly gazed at the room, her chest heaving up and down rapidly and inconsistently.

"Calm down, Herm. It's okay. You're in St. Mungos," Harry said. His eyes were red.

"What- How-" Her throat felt amazingly dry. "Did Sirius return?"

"Yes, he did." Hermione nodded and tried to swallow, quickly breaking eye contact. How to tell everything to Harry? How to explain? And how had they taken her out of the Veil? She tried to sit up, but Harry had to help her do so. She still didn't meet his eyes, now knowing what to tell him. The questions she had were of no importance now. "Hermione..."

Why? Why had they brought her back? She didn't want to see the pain in Harry's eyes. She didn't want to know how much the others had suffered, if they had suffered at all, when she threw herself through the Veil. Hermione closed her eyes tightly, as her lips, trying with all of her might not to cry.

"I'm- I'm so sorry," she whispered, turned her face sideways, moving away from him by inches. "I'm so sorry, Harry... You shouldn't be here with me. Not after what I- I did to you. I don't deserve you," She added, also taking her hand away from his.

"Don't say that." Harry gently said. Hermione still avoided his gaze, tears rolling down her cheeks.

"No, don't- don't _you_ say that!" She ordered, glaring at him. "Don't you dare- Don't put yourself below me, Harry! After all the things you gave me, all the things we did together in Hogwarts- And I repay you like this!" She added. "Why do you still care? How can you?"

"Because I love you."

"Well, you shouldn't," Hermione replied. When Harry didn't say anything, her face fell again. "I'm so sorry, so sorry... Harry... If I could explain- If I could tell you..."

"You don't need to." Hermione sharply glanced at him at this, but didn't say anything, so Harry breathed in deeply once more. "Sirius did." Hermione's mouth fell open at this.

"What?" She squeaked.

"He told me everything, a year ago." Harry said, boring his eyes into hers. Hermione's brow furrowed worriedly, and still looked quite incapable of forming a coherent sentence.

"Sirius- He told...? Is he- What did he tell you?"

"What happened between you two in fifth year," Harry retorted, and Hermione's face became parchment white. She stared at him unmoving, fearful, not knowing how to approach the news. "I hated him so much, for a couple of months. On some levels, I despised you, too," Harry started, looking away. "I couldn't understand, you know? I couldn't understand why or how it had happened- I quite simply couldn't take it in."

"I understand if you hate me, Harry. I don't blame you," Hermione said in a small voice.

"I don't hate either of you now, in any case." Harry told her with a smirk.

"Harry... About... About my birthday night..." Her voice was shaking so badly that even she could barely decipher the words. "I wish... I wish I didn't... I wish I could've avoided causing you pain," Hermione whispered.

"I wish so too," Harry said with a sigh. "But you're here now, and you're alive, and that's all that matters to me," he said, smiling at her. Hermione weakly returned it, and silence fell upon them for a couple of minutes.

"Thank you," Hermione finally said, letting her body sag on the bed. Harry arranged her pillows as she lied down again, closing her eyes.

"You're welcome," he told her. "Sirius was the one that brought you back," he informed her. Hermione widened her eyes and bit her lower lip.

"But- He's not- What potion did he drink?"

"The first one."

"But is he alright? He came back with me, didn't he?" She was obviously getting too agitated for her own good, in her present condition, again, so Harry nodded in direction of the adjacent bed.

"He's there," he whispered. Hermione's gaze flickered over the white curtain and her eyes shimmered with tears again as she looked back at Harry. With some effort she extended her arms and put them around his neck weakly, pulling him down so she could kiss his cheek, crying. Maybe she wanted to say something, maybe he wanted to kiss her, but neither of them did what they wanted to do.

Sometimes, words are overrated, and actions convey what voices and words can never archive. This was one of such times.

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A/N: Well, there it is. There's still one chapter left- The final chapter. Wow. I can hardly believe it! I hope you liked this chapter as much as I did, or at least enjoyed it. Please, leave me a review so I can know! Until next chapter...


	28. Homecomings

Homecomings

A/N: (gasp) I'm so sorry for the huge delay in this chapter! I feel so guilty... But here it is. The last chapter... The bitter end (?)

Well, I'd like to thank all of you for hanging in there with this story, and for your wonderful reviews- I love all of you, I swear. You guys have made me so happy! It makes it all worthwhile. I'm quite sad to let this story go, but alas... Anyway, here's the last chapter of Remember me... I hope you enjoy it!

Disclaimer: Nope, nothing except the plot.

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Once she had been thoroughly examined, Hermione was immediately removed out of the 'intensive care' ward to be put in the recovery wing. Sirius, unfortunately, had yet to wake up- Harry was the only one allowed to visit him. When he informed Hermione of this, she didn't say anything and just nodded. It had not been a day and a half since she woke up that she was visited by the Ginny and Draco. When Ginny had tore open the curtains surrounding Hermione's bed, shaking and red eyed, Harry had discreetly made his way towards Ron, Luna and Draco.

Once Ginny had closed the curtains around them again, she sat down on the edge of Hermione's bed, as the owner stared at her. Hermione's appearance was somewhat disheveled, and her eyes seemed to stand out more than normal in the pale face, which strangely did not hold the freshness that Sirius's face had portrayed when he had returned from the Veil.

"You're pregnant," Hermione had finally whispered, trying in vain to smile. She didn't know what to say. Ginny agreed with her head.

"Five months now." She replied. Hermione also nodded, and an awkward silence enveloped them. "Why didn't you drink the first potion?" Ginny asked. Hermione broke eye contact and swallowed.

"I didn't..." she trailed off. "I didn't want to be alive anymore," she mumbled, trying to hold her tears back.

"Why?"

"Someday I'll tell you, I promise," Hermione said, closing her eyes. "I'm s- sorry, I'm so- so sorry..." she added brokenly. "I know that apologizing is not enough, but I..."

"We missed you," Ginny quietly told her, wiping a tear from her eye. "I guess... I guess that you are as sorry as we were," she said. Hermione nodded, still unable to look up, and suddenly found herself hugging Ginny and crying as though it would make anything easier; as though their tears could make all the hurt disappear. In some ways, it did. When Ron's and Luna's turn came, it was no different- with much surprise, Hermione was told that she had not only missed Ginny's and Draco's wedding, but Ron's and Luna's as well... However, the true surprise came when it was Lupin's and Tonk's turn to visit.

"How are you feeling?" Tonks had gently asked Hermione, whose eyes had swollen five times their size with all the crying.

"I don't know," Hermione had truthfully answered. She felt relieved, of course, and happy that none of her friends loathed her, but there was the anxiety over Sirius... The anxiety, the uncertainty, the longing and aching to see him... "Can I ask...? When... When S- Sirius came back... Was he..." she didn't know how to approach the subject, how to ease some of her nervousness about his condition. Tonks shared a glance with Lupin and he nodded, making Hermione raise her eyebrows.

"Hermione, dear..." Tonks slowly started, "you could have told me."

"Told you what?" Hermione's questioned barely above a whisper.

"About you and Sirius," Lupin responded, making Hermione flinch and tense.

"You... You two... Who...?"

"I already suspected as much, but Sirius confirmed my assumptions," Lupin explained. "Tonks overheard us talking about it." Hermione's body language at the news couldn't have been clearer: her reticence and sudden discomfort were shown in the way that she backed up in her bed, pressing herself against the wall and drawing her knees together and up, as if they were intended to act like a shield...

"It's alright," Tonks immediately told her. "We didn't judge you."

"And did you judge _him_?" Hermione wanted to know. "I was the one who started it... who started it all..." She hid her face among her hair at this. "I don't regret it."

"Sirius told me the same thing," Lupin said with a small smile. Hermione sharply looked up at this, but didn't say anything. "He really does love you, Hermione. Regardless of the age gap. Yes, what you two shared toed the line of what's acceptable and what's criminal, but..." he trailed off. "You are of age now." Hermione couldn't stop staring at the couple, unable to believe the way they were acting.

"Are you... truly alright with it?" Hermione shyly asked. Both Lupin and Tonks nodded, and Hermione had the urge to hug them both for their understanding. And to think that she could've avoided so much pain, had she talked to them sooner!

But would Sirius be alive? Would she have found The Veiled Mysteries?

"Thank you," Hermione told them at last. "Thank you."

--

It took a little bit more than a week for Hermione to be able to walk properly again, but she preferred to spend her days in bed anyway. Currently, Hermione was on her bed, listening to Ginny and Luna talking about their respective weddings. Harry, who was sitting on a chair next to Hermione's bed, couldn't help but to notice that Hermione had a different aura about her. She had an air of tranquility and peace; it could be seen in the way that her smile was wide but relaxed, the way that her hands were neatly folded on her lap, the way she covered her mouth with her hand when she laughed softly. Had the bossy bookworm disappeared forever? Harry hoped not.

Like Ginny, he had also noticed that, even though she was now nineteen again, Hermione's features did not appear renewed and fresh, but worn. It was strange. It if it was because of hardships suffered in life, wouldn't Sirius look worse than her? Hermione had lived through the War, though. She had been there when Harry had met Voldemort for the last time. Well, Sirius was not looking very good either nowadays... Harry sighed sadly at the thought of his godfather. He wondered what Hermione made out of it...

"Mr. Potter?" a Healer interrupted his musings, as well as Ginny's speech about how handsome Draco had looked in his tux. Hermione, who had also turned to see who had spoken, felt her heart shrink when she recognized Sirius's healer. "I was wondering if you could come with me?" the Healer asked. Harry quickly stood up as he nodded, not glancing back at the three girls, and walked out of the ward trying not to seem too anxious or worried. Without a word, Harry and the Healer walked through the white corridor and turned around the corner into the ward Sirius was in. When they stepped inside the ward, a nurse was examining Sirius.

"Is he alright?" Harry finally managed to ask, staring at the nurse waving her wand over Sirius and then writing on a clipboard. The Healer sighed.

"It's hard to say, Mr. Potter," he answered. "He appears to be in some sort of coma, but we can't be sure."

"But... Can't you recognize the symptoms of a coma or something?" Harry wanted to know.

"Yes, we can, but as I have already said, this is not a common case," the Healer replied. "Mr. Black, as well as Ms. Granger, should be dead. The laws of nature are _not_ made to be broken or bent, and that is exactly what has happened, as you must have noticed. I believe that Ms. Granger has woken up because she had never 'returned'... It's a wonder how Mr. Black's body, and not to mention soul, didn't shatter when he again threw himself in there." Harry felt sick for a couple of seconds. Why hadn't he gone beyond the Veil to get Hermione? Why had he allowed Sirius to go...? "Are you alright, Mr. Potter?" Harry nodded slowly.

"Is there anything we can do?" He asked. The Healer scratched his chin and shook his head slightly.

"Nothing but wait, I'm afraid," he told him. "Mr. Black is breathing, and he isn't cold anymore, so that's a good sign. However, if he does not wake up in the following weeks... Well, a few Unspeakables who specialize on the Veil have sent us a few owls wondering if they could examine Mr. Black. I told them that I'd talk to you first," the Healer said, boring his eyes into Harry's. Harry really didn't like the idea of people examining his godfather like some guinea pig, but what if it could help?

"What would they do to him?" Harry questioned.

"Nothing even close to surgery, first of all," the Healer said. "Spells and such... Here at St. Mungos we don't approve those kinds of procedures, if you want me to be honest," the Healer continued, frowning. "If you agree with them examining Mr. Black, rest assured that the operation will not go under supervised."

"Let's wait before we tell them," Harry retorted, nodding.

"Very well," the Healer said. "As for Ms. Granger, she's more than fit to go back home if she wishes to do so."

"Thank you," Harry mumbled, still trying to work through his guilt- induced nausea.

"You're welcome." Harry agreed with his head mutely and, dragging his feet, walked out of the ward without daring to look at Sirius. Once outside of the ward, he closed his eyes and leaned against the doorframe, not knowing what to think.

When would it all finish? Couldn't they live at peace for a while? He was tired of the tears, and the laments, and the sorrows. He was tired of the mind exhausting worrying, and the implacable anxiousness... He felt like crying for a couple of seconds, but no tears wet his eyes.

"Is he going to die?"

Harry snapped his eyes open at the voice, and spotted Hermione, bare footed and using her hand to steady herself against the wall, staring at him. Her hair was frizzy and all over the place, but she didn't deem fragile anymore.

"Are you alright?" Harry asked her, walking towards her. Hermione shook her head, discarding the question.

"Is he going to die?" she repeated. Harry let out a long sigh.

"I don't know." Hermione nodded and broke eye contact. Pause. "Are... Are you coming back to Grimmauld Place?" Harry asked her. She looked up back at him, her face impassive. "I mean... You can- you can stay here if you like..." he hastily added. All the discomfort that had seemed to melt between them hit them hard at that moment; Hermione stared at the door of Sirius's ward, and Harry fixedly gazed at the floor. Longer pause.

"I wonder if I'll be able to stand it," she finally whispered, still staring at the door.

"Stand what?"

"Going there," Hermione answered, slowly gazing at him. "It literally killed me to be in that house, without... without..." her voice died and the unfinished sentence lingered in the air almost hauntingly, and her gaze returned to the door. Harry raised his eyes to her face, swallowing.

"That's why you had the overdose?" His voice shook as he asked this barely above a whisper. Hermione nodded imperceptibly. "Oh."

"That's why you shouldn't love me, Harry," Hermione told him, gazing at him. "There are so many ghosts between us..." Harry looked down at this, frowning slightly.

"I don't care, Hermione. Ghosts are nothing but imprints." He told her with the beginnings of a smile. Hermione felt a smile tugging the corner of her lips at this. "Besides, even if you won't be with me, well... You did sleep with me. Not even... Not even S- Sirius can gloat about that one..." he said, blushing at what he had said, and in disbelief of what he had just implied. Hermione did finally smile as she reached down to hold Harry's hand.

"Alright... Let's return to Grimmauld Place."

Two days after she had decided to return, Hermione found herself standing in the middle of the old house and for some seconds she didn't know what to do with herself. As she stared at the couches and the paintings as though she was seeing them for the first time, Ron and Harry were making tea in the kitchen... She didn't know what to do with the memories, mostly. Every crack in the wall, every scent, every noise brought a different kind of memory and feeling; Hermione realized that she was momentarily disoriented.

But Sirius was not dead. He was not dead anymore.

Hermione's longing to see him was almost unbearable, and the ache she felt to simply touch his hand was eating her away, but she couldn't complain about anything. Truth was... She felt so much older. Looking back at all the things she had done before throwing herself through the Veil, well, they just didn't deem as so horribly soul shattering as before. That was the funny thing about growing up- you have more perspective of things. You can analyze stuff more objectively, more calmly...

Maybe she wasn't making sense. It felt like... Like she had cried and cried for days and days, then had proceeded to fall asleep, and when she had woken up, a burden from her shoulders had been slightly lifted. As though what had made her cry had hurt her enough to go over it again.

"Hermione, what're you doing?" Ron's muffled, yet demanding voice coming from the kitchen broke her train of thought. How much time had she been standing there? As Hermione started walking towards the kitchen, she realized that the last time that Harry, Ron and her had been alone in a kitchen had been an hour before she jumped through the Veil... Hermione sighed and a smile formed on her lips as she put her hand over the kitchen door.

"I'm here, you prat," she told Ron as she pushed the door open. If she had been given a chance to change that particular nasty memory into a nice one, she was not going to waste it. Time to start healing, Hermione believed. Healing the scars she had left on her friends, and her own wounds in the process.

A few weeks had passed since Hermione had left St. Mungos and spring had arrived in its glory, making the cruel winter months seem like a distant nightmare. Hermione had slowly begun to readjust to the world, Ginny's belly got bigger, Ron and Luna had decided to go on a short weekend vacation, Tonks and Lupin accompanied Harry when he visited a still asleep Sirius in St. Mungos, and the world kept turning.

On April the fifth Harry had just been promoted to Head of the Auror's department, and had been currently doing a small happy jig in his office, when a memo flew into his cubicle and hit him on the head. Harry immediately recognized that it came from the Department of Mysteries, and his heart skipped quite a few beats at that. A week and half ago he had grudgingly allowed the Unspeakables to examine Sirius, and they had promised to let him know whether there was an improvement or a relapse in his godfather's condition. He breathed in deeply as he took hold of the memo, feeling his excitement give way to the now familiar feeling that of his insides doing loopholes inside his stomach.

_We require your presence in St. Mungos immediately.__ Kindly apparate there as soon as you read this. _

That was it? Harry turned over the paper, in futile hope that there would be something else written there, but there was nothing. Had Sirius died? Was he alright? Why hadn't they said anything? As Harry ran his fingers through his hair, not even grabbing his coat as he stepped out of his office to tell his boss that he had to leave, he wondered if he should tell Hermione? But if Sirius... if he had... If he had passed away... Harry wanted to deal with it alone, at first. What would they do if that was the case? Hermione would snap like a dry twig, and Harry would follow her example sooner or later.

_Let him be okay. Let him be alive..._ By the time he arrived at the hospital, those two sentences had become a prayer. Without stopping at the reception and not even bothering to glance at the elevator, Harry ran towards the staircases, trying to calm down his heart as well as his stomach. _He has to come through this. Please, Sirius, don't even think about me if you don't want to. Remember her...!_ Harry wasn't sure if he would be able to stand seeing Hermione in so much pain again.

"Ah, Mr. Potter. Glad to see you got here so quickly," a voice broke through his thoughts. Harry found himself, breathless, standing in front of the same Healer that had told him about the Unspeakables in the first place.

"Is Sirius alright? Is he... Is he...?" Harry couldn't bring himself to pronunciate the word, afraid that if he said it, it'd become the truth. The Healer beckoned Harry to follow him into the ward in silence, and this frightened him more than whatever the doctor might have done. When they arrived to Sirius's bed, Harry was nothing but a pale mob of nerves. His godfather's face had a more healthy color now, at least... The Healer put a hand over Harry's shoulder.

"He opened his eyes, Harry." He said. Harry's breath hitched at this, glancing at the Healer with widened eyes, and for a few embarrassing moments, felt afraid that he'd start either crying, or jumping, and even, Merlin forbid, hugging random people. Before he could speak or start embarrassing himself, Harry heard a low groan come from the bed.

"Sirius?" he asked, leaning over his godfather's body. His godfather blearily blinked a few times before frowning.

"'rry? S'that you?" Sirius slurred.

"Yeah." Sirius closed his eyes again.

"'S 'Mione 'key?" He wanted to know.

"Very..." Maybe it was his happiness and relief that made it difficult to say more than one word when Sirius asked him a question? "But don't let her hear you calling her that; I think Ron's shoulder still hasn't healed from the last time he tried." His godfather smiled sleepily when he heard this, opening his eyes to look at Harry.

"'Been here before..." he trailed off.

"You and me both. Talk about déjà vu," Harry agreed with a grin.

"See... No punching this time..." Sirius commented, rubbing a side of his head tiredly.

"Nah. Even if you had deserved a second one, Hermione would have had my head for making you black out again." Sirius opened his eyes and stared at Harry fixedly. Had he forgiven Sirius and Hermione, and all they had done to him? His godson was still grinning at him, and his voice hadn't faltered or sounded remotely angry, nor bitter. Awkward, perhaps, but that was to be expected...

"Thank you, Harry," Sirius told him quietly. Harry didn't stop smiling as he shrugged and put a hand over Sirius's shoulder.

"Well, get better soon. We miss you, I've just got promoted, and no celebration is complete without you getting pissed in it."

--

"Harry James Potter! You jerk; why didn't you tell me sooner?" Hermione was exclaiming two weeks after Sirius had woken up. They were having breakfast when Harry had told her that he had gotten promoted, and Hermione had almost blown a blood vessel.

"I forgot," Harry replied lamely, grinning. Hermione slapped his shoulder and shook her head.

"You sound like Ron," she said as she picked their empty cups of tea to leave them in the sink. Harry shrugged, and raised his eyebrows when Hermione sat down next to him and scrutinized his face.

"What?" he asked. Hermione's brow was lightly furrowed.

"You're different. You're... acting..." she murmured, narrowing her eyes. "You... You look too... happy." She sentenced. He chuckled.

"Can't I look happy for once? I've been promoted!" Hermione shook her head again and sighed, standing up once more. She was about to leave the kitchen when she turned around, suddenly serious.

"How's... How's Sirius? Has he woken up?" She questioned.

"I'll go to St. Mungos today," Harry responded. Hermione nodded.

"Keep me informed, okay? Have a nice day at work," she told him before disappearing up the nearest stairs, leaving a smiling Harry behind her.

Nice hours later, Hermione was humming softly as she took out a cake from the oven; she had decided to make a nice dinner for Harry as to congratulate him on his promotion. Everyone would be arriving in a little more than one hour, at eight o'clock –including Harry- and she wanted everything to be perfect. During this past month, Hermione had discovered that the more things she did, the less she was able to think of Sirius's condition, and thus didn't get depressed so often- this time was no exception. She had cleaned the house, done the dishes, had a bath, put on make up, curled her hair, put on a fancy dress, and had made dinner.

As Hermione put the icing on the cake, she failed to notice that there was someone else in the kitchen, leaning against the small table and staring at her back, but not uttering a word. Hermione grinned proudly as she examined the cake and moved to pick up a small pile of dishes to put on the dining room table. With a contented smile, she turned around.

The sound of the dishes meeting their end on the floor was echoed in the kitchen, which had suddenly become a very stuffy, little place. Hermione's hands were still frozen in the air, as if they were holding the plates and her eyes were as wide as apple saucers, and her skin was pearly white. Sirius swallowed, with some difficulty, as he stared at her face, and testily took one step towards her. He would have to make up new words to describe what he was feeling; but he did know that he was experiencing a mix of exhilaration, terror, and mind numbing joy.

"Her-Hermione...?" His voice shook as he dared to break the silence. Even from where he was standing he could see her shaking... Hermione's lip parted slightly open as she also stepped closer to him, unable to believe what she was seeing. How could he be here? Wasn't he in St. Mungos? Was he a dream? A ghost? Her throat felt dry, and the knot in it was _not_ making things any easier.

The little amount of air left in her lungs wasn't enough to enable her to speak, apparently, and she was feeling kind of... dizzy... Hermione extended her hands as she came closer to Sirius, afraid that he would disappear one second to the next, and her eyes blurred as she looked upon the face she had yearned to see for five years. Damn it all if he was a delusion- she'd be able to at least say that she had almost died of happiness for a few blessed minutes.

When her hands came near his grip, Sirius wasted no time and softly grabbed them, discovering with some surprise that his were shaking too. At the contact, Hermione realized that he was solid flesh and bones.

He was...? He was- He- But! Sirius! Sirius—

She freed her hands from Sirius's grip and began touching his face and hair... He smiled. Hermione finally sobbed and threw herself over him, hugging him with such strength that he almost fell over the table, and his arms wound themselves around her trembling body on their own accord. He closed his eyes against her hair, smiling until it hurt... He felt so elated that it was almost painful, but he had never known a pain so sweet.

"You're here, you're here," Hermione began whispering over and over again as she cried almost hysterically. After five years... Five years! After all the pain and the hurt, he had returned. Hermione was holding him again- he was breathing- She felt as though she was in a roller coaster.

"My Hermione," Sirius hoarsely whispered. "My Hermione..." Hermione broke the embrace and gazed at him for a couple of seconds too see that his eyes were red, too, and in a fraction of a second her lips were on his. Oh, the feeling! The quick chill strike of adrenaline running through her veins; her brain going numb; a thrilling hint of moisture. Their lips were pressed together for what seemed a timeless moment of existence; her fingers traced gently up his neck and through his unruly black hair, sending shocks through his shoulders. When they parted, they were both breathless; Hermione rested her forehead against his and closed her eyes, attempting to stop crying.

"I thought you- you were in the hospital," she lisped, opening her eyes to gaze at Sirius through her eyelashes. "Harry didn't..." she was too far gone to feel any kind of anger towards Harry, but why hadn't he said anything?

"He wanted to tell you, but... I wanted it to be a surprise," he replied with a smile. Hermione smiled shakily and kissed him again, not able to get enough of his taste. Sirius gently cupped her face in his hands to push her away, and bored his eyes on hers, wiping some of her tears away with her thumb. "I..." he started. Hermione stared at him in contained anticipation, but didn't say anything. "I... I love you," Sirius finally managed to get out. She widened her eyes at his confession, and then suddenly started laughing.

"Me too!" she replied in a high pitched voice, embracing him again; still laughing. Sirius grinned and lifted her up slightly, spinning her around as he kissed her cheek, and her laughter grew louder- and she couldn't help but to start crying again.

As the oblivious Sirius and Hermione kissed again, Lupin shook his head with a wide smile. Tonks and Harry started to smile too in the hallway outside the kitchen. Luckily, they had been the first ones to arrive to the house for the celebration Hermione had planned for Harry.

"And all is right in the world," Lupin was muttering, thankful that finally his childhood friend and Hermione had found each other once more.

"Why didn't you tell us about Sirius?" Tonks cheerfully asked him, hearing the muffled laughter coming from inside the kitchen.

"He wanted to be okay first," Harry replied while shrugging. At the sound of his godfather's bark like laughter a bittersweet feeling rose inside him.

"Are they going to live here?" Lupin wanted to know. Harry shook his head no.

"Hermione told me that she was going to move out before she knew about Sirius, so... I guess he'll go with her," he responded.

"Are you alright?" Tonks asked. Harry looked down for a couple of seconds, considering his answer.

"I love both of them, and I want them to be happy. They are when put together, and I'm not going to get in the middle of that..." he trailed off with a smile that the couple in front of him returned.

"So... D'you think we'll be able to remind Hermione that Ron is coming and the food isn't ready yet?" Tonks asked both men.

"And that Sirius will be joining us, apparently, and the food won't be enough," Lupin added. Harry grinned.

"It's worth a shot," he commented, knocking on the kitchen door. At the dry sound Hermione and Sirius broke apart, flushed and grinning madly. As the door opened slowly, Sirius reached out to grab a bowl of what looked to be fries, but before he could touch them, Hermione noticed what he was about to do and playfully slapped his hand.

"Wait until we have dinner," she scolded him. Sirius stuck her tongue out at her mockingly and grabbed a handful of fries, stuffing them in his mouth at once. Before Hermione could object, Lupin cut her off.

"Give up, Hermione... He'll never grow up," he said.

"I know," she retorted with a warm smile. "That's one of the many things I love about him, after all."

And indeed, all was right in the world.

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A/N: (sigh) so there it is. I hope it was worth it- worth all the previous 27 chapters of angst! Hehe... Was there a part in the story you simply hated, or didn't like? What did you like most? I love this story to death, and thank you all once again for reading it. I also hope you'll let me know what you thought of it in a review... Bye!


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